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At the time when the racers had to go to the pavilion to receive

the prizes, and all attention was directed to that point,

Vronsky's elder brother, Alexander, a colonel with heavy fringed

epaulets, came up to him. He was not tall, though as broadly

built as Alexey, and handsomer and rosier than he; he had a red

nose, and an open, drunken-looking face.

"Did you get my note?" he said. "There's never any finding you."

Alexander Vronsky, in spite of the dissolute life, and in

especial the drunken habits, for which he was notorious, was

quite one of the court circle.

Now, as he talked to his brother of a matter bound to be

exceedingly disagreeable to him, knowing that the eyes of many

people might be fixed upon him, he kept a smiling countenance, as

though he were jesting with his brother about something of little

moment.

"I got it, and I really can't make out what you are worrying

yourself about," said Alexey.