`Kitty! I'm in torture. I can't be in torture alone,' he said with despair in his voice, standing before her and looking imploringly into her eyes. He saw already from her loving, truthful face, that nothing could come of what he had meant to say, but yet he wanted her to reassure him herself. `I've come to say that there's still time. This can all be stopped and set right.'

`What? I don't understand. What is the matter?'

`What I have said a thousand times over, and can't help thinking... that I'm not worthy of you. You couldn't consent to marry me. Think a little. You've made a mistake. Think it over thoroughly. You can't love me... if... Better say so,' he said, without looking at her. `I shall be wretched. Let people say what they like; anything's better than misery.... Far better now while there's still time....'

`I don't understand,' she answered, panic-stricken; `you mean you want to give it up... that you don't want it?'

`Yes - if you don't love me.'

`You're out of your mind!' she cried, turning crimson with vexation. But his face was so piteous that she restrained her vexation, and flinging some clothes off an armchair, she sat down beside him. `What are you thinking? Tell me all.'

`I am thinking you can't love me. What can you love me for?'

`My God! What can I do?...' she said, and burst into tears.

`Oh! What have I done?' he cried, and kneeling before her, he fell to kissing her hands.

When the old Princess came into the room five minutes later, she found them completely reconciled. Kitty had not simply assured him that she loved him, but had gone so far - in answer to his question, what she loved him for - as to explain what for. She told him that she loved him because she understood him completely, because she knew what he would like, and because everything he liked was good. And this seemed to him perfectly clear. When the Princess came to them, they were sitting side by side on the chest, sorting the dresses and disputing over Kitty's wanting to give Duniasha the brown dress she had been wearing when Levin proposed to her, while he insisted that that dress must never be given away, but that Duniasha should have the blue one.

`How is it you don't see? She's a brunette, and it won't suit her.... I've worked it all out.'

Hearing why he had come, the Princess was half-humorously, half-seriously angry with him, and sent him home to dress and not to hinder Kitty's hairdressing, as Charles the coiffeur was just coming.

`As it is, she's been eating nothing lately and is losing her looks, and then you must come and upset her with your nonsense,' she said to him. `Get along with you, my dear!'

Levin, guilty and shamefaced, but pacified, went back to his hotel. His brother, Darya Alexandrovna, and Stepan Arkadyevich, all in full dress, were waiting for him to bless him with an icon. There was no time to lose. Darya Alexandrovna had to drive home again to fetch her curled and pomaded son, who was to carry the icon in the bride's carriage. Then a carriage had to be sent for the best man, and another, that would take Sergei Ivanovich away, would have to be sent back.... Altogether there were a great many most complicated matters to be considered and arranged. One thing was unmistakable - that there must be no delay, as it was already half-past six.

Nothing special happened at the ceremony of benediction with the icon. Stepan Arkadyevich stood in a comically solemn pose beside his wife, took the icon, and, telling Levin to bow down to the ground, he blessed him with his kindly, ironical smile, and kissed him three times; Darya Alexandrovna did the same,


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