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Demitrievitch!”
Not only he knew all about it, but he was unmistakably delighted
and making efforts to conceal his joy. Looking into his kindly old eyes,
Levin realized even something new in his happiness.
“Are they up?”
“Pray walk in! Leave it here,” said he, smiling, as Levin would have
come back to take his hat. That meant something.
“To whom shall I announce your honor?” asked the footman.
The footman, though a young man, and one of the new school of
footmen, a dandy, was a very kind-hearted, good fellow, and he too
knew all about it.
“The princess...the prince...the young princess...” said Levin.
The first person he saw was Mademoiselle Linon. She walked
across the room, and her ringlets and her face were beaming. He had
only just spoken to her, when suddenly he heard the rustle of a skirt at
the door, and Mademoiselle Linon vanished from Levin’s eyes, and a
joyful terror came over him at the nearness of his happiness. Made-
moiselle Linon was in great haste, and leaving him, went out at the
other door. Directly she had gone out, swift, swift light steps sounded
on the parquet, and his bliss, his life, himself—what was best in him-
self, what he had so long sought and longed for—was quickly, so quickly
approaching him. She did not walk, but seemed, by some unseen force,
to float to him. He saw nothing but her clear, truthful eyes, frightened
by the same bliss of love that flooded his heart. Those eyes were
shining nearer and nearer, blinding him with their light of love. She
stopped still close to him, touching him. Her hands rose and dropped
onto his shoulders.
She had done all she could—she had run up to him and given
herself up entirely, shy and happy. He put his arms round her and
pressed his lips to her mouth that sought his kiss.
She too had not slept all night, and had been expecting him all the
morning.
Her mother and father had consented without demur, and were
happy in her happiness. She had been waiting for him. She wanted to
be the first to tell him her happiness and his. She had got ready to see
him alone, and had been delighted at the idea, and had been shy and
ashamed, and did not know herself what she was doing. She had
heard his steps and voice, and had waited at the door for Mademoi-
selle Linon to go. Mademoiselle Linon had gone away. Without
thinking, without asking herself how and what, she had gone up to him,
and did as she was doing.
“Let us go to mamma!” she said, taking him by the hand. For a long
while he could say nothing, not so much because he was afraid of
desecrating the loftiness of his emotion by a word, as that every time he
tried to say something, instead of words he felt that tears of happiness
were welling up. He took her hand and kissed it.
“Can it be true?” he said at last in a choked voice. “I can’t believe
you love me, dear!”
She smiled at that “dear,” and at the timidity with which he glanced
at her.
“Yes!” she said significantly, deliberately. “I am so happy!”
Not letting go his hands, she went into the drawing room. The
princess, seeing them, breathed quickly, and immediately began to cry
and then immediately began to laugh and with a vigorous step Levin
had not expected, ran up to him, and hugging his head, kissed him,
wetting his cheeks with her tears.
“So it is all settled! I am glad. Love her. I am glad.... Kitty!”
“You’ve not been long settling things,” said the old prince, trying to