The election itself had so fascinated him that, if he could succeed in getting married during the next three years, he began to think of standing himself--much as after winning a race ridden by a jockey, he had longed to ride a race himself.

Today he was celebrating the success of his jockey.

Vronsky sat at the head of the table, on his right hand sat the young governor, a general of high rank.

To all the rest he was the chief man in the province, who had solemnly opened the elections with his speech, and aroused a feeling of respect and even of awe in many people, as Vronsky saw; to Vronsky he was little Katka Maslov--that had been his nickname in the Pages' Corps--whom he felt to be shy and tried to _mettre a son aise_.