After dinner, and till the beginning of the evening, Kitty was

feeling a sensation akin to the sensation of a young man before a

battle. Her heart throbbed violently, and her thoughts would not

rest on anything.

She felt that this evening, when they would both meet for the

first time, would be a turning point in her life. And she was

continually picturing them to herself, at one moment each

separately, and then both together. When she mused on the past,

she dwelt with pleasure, with tenderness, on the memories of her

relations with Levin. The memories of childhood and of Levin's

friendship with her dead brother gave a special poetic charm to

her relations with him. His love for her, of which she felt

certain, was flattering and delightful to her; and it was

pleasant for her to think of Levin. In her memories of Vronsky

there always entered a certain element of awkwardness, though he

was in the highest degree well-bred and at ease, as though there

were some false note--not in Vronsky, he was very simple and

nice, but in herself, while with Levin she felt perfectly simple

and clear. But, on the other hand, directly she thought of the

future with Vronsky, there arose before her a perspective of

brilliant happiness; with Levin the future seemed misty.

When she went upstairs to dress, and looked into the

looking-glass, she noticed with joy that it was one of her good

days, and that she was in complete possession of all her

forces,--she needed this so for what lay before her: she was

conscious of external composure and free grace in her movements.

At half-past seven she had only just gone down into the drawing

room, when the footman announced, "Konstantin Dmitrievitch

Levin." The princess was still in her room, and the prince had

not come in. "So it is to be," thought Kitty, and all the blood

seemed to rush to her heart. She was horrified at her paleness,

as she glanced into the looking-glass. At that moment she knew

beyond doubt that he had come early on purpose to find her alone

and to make her an offer. And only then for the first time the

whole thing presented itself in a new, different aspect; only

then she realized that the question did not affect her only--

with whom she would be happy, and whom she loved--but that she

would have that moment to wound a man whom she liked. And to

wound him cruelly. What for? Because he, dear fellow, loved

her, was in love with her. But there was no help for it, so it

must be, so it would have to be.




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