The princess sat in her armchair, silent and smiling; the prince
sat down beside her. Kitty stood by her father's chair, still
holding his hand. All were silent.
The princess was the first to put everything into words, and to
translate all thoughts and feelings into practical questions.
And all equally felt this strange and painful for the first
minute.
"When is it to be? We must have the benediction and
announcement. And when's the wedding to be? What do you think,
Alexander?"
"Here he is," said the old prince, pointing to Levin--"he's the
principal person in the matter."
"When?" said Levin blushing. "Tomorrow; If you ask me, I should
say, the benediction today and the wedding tomorrow."
"Come, _mon cher_, that's nonsense!"
"Well, in a week."
"He's quite mad."
"No, why so?"
"Well, upon my word!" said the mother, smiling, delighted at this
haste. "How about the trousseau?"
"Will there really be a trousseau and all that?" Levin thought
with horror. "But can the trousseau and the benediction and all
that--can it spoil my happiness? Nothing can spoil it!" He
glanced at Kitty, and noticed that she was not in the least, not
in the very least, disturbed by the idea of the trousseau. "Then
it must be all right," he thought.
"Oh, I know nothing about it; I only said what I should like,"
he said apologetically.
"We'll talk it over, then. The benediction and announcement can
take place now. That's very well."
The princess went up to her husband, kissed him, and would have
gone away, but he kept her, embraced her, and, tenderly as a young
lover, kissed her several times, smiling. The old people were
obviously muddled for a moment, and did not quite know whether it
was they who were in love again or their daughter. When the
prince and the princess had gone, Levin went up to his betrothed
and took her hand. He was self-possessed now and could speak,
and he had a great deal he wanted to tell her. But he said not
at all what he had to say.
"How I knew it would be so! I never hoped for it; and yet in my
heart I was always sure," he said. "I believe that it was
ordained."
"And I!" she said. "Even when...." She stopped and went on
again, looking at him resolutely with her truthful eyes, "Even
when I thrust from me my happiness. I always loved you alone,
but I was carried away. I ought to tell you.... Can you forgive
that?"