`No; if so, I should have felt a little, apart from my feeling'
(he could not say `love' before them) `and happiness, a certain regret at losing my *******.... On the contrary, I am glad at the very loss of my *******.'
`Awful! It's a hopeless case!' said Katavassov. `Well, let's drink to his recovery, or wish that a hundredth part of his dreams may be realized - and that would be happiness such as never has been seen on earth!'
Soon after dinner the guests went away to dress in time for the wedding.
When he was left alone, and recalled the conversation of these bachelor friends, Levin asked himself: Had he in his heart that regret for his ******* of which they had spoken? He smiled at the question. `Freedom!
What is ******* for? Happiness is only in loving and wishing her wishes, thinking her thoughts; that is to say, not ******* at all - that's happiness!'
`But do I know her thoughts, her wishes, her feelings?' some voice suddenly whispered to him. The smile died away from his face, and he grew thoughtful. And suddenly a strange feeling came upon him. There came over him a dread and doubt - doubt of everything.
`What if she does not love me? What if she's marrying me simply to be married? What if she doesn't see herself what she's doing?' he asked himself. `She may come to her senses, and only when she is being married realize that she does not and cannot love me.' And strange, most evil thoughts of her began to come to him. He was jealous of Vronsky, as he had been a year ago, as though the evening he had seen her with Vronsky had been yesterday. He suspected she had not told him everything.
He jumped up quickly. `No, this can't go on!' he said to himself in despair. `I'll go to her; I'll ask her; I'll say for the last time:
We are free, and hadn't we better stay so? Anything's better than endless misery, disgrace, unfaithfulness!' With despair in his heart and bitter anger against all men, against himself, against her, he went out of the hotel and drove to her house.
He found her in one of the rear rooms. She was sitting on a chest and ****** some arrangements with her maid, sorting over heaps of dresses of different colors, spread on the backs of chairs and on the floor.
`Ah!' she cried, seeing him, and beaming with delight. `Kostia!
Konstantin Dmitrievich!' (These latter days she used these names almost alternately.) `I didn't expect you! I'm going through my girlish wardrobe to see what's for whom....'
`Oh! That's very lovely!' he said gloomily, looking at the maid.
`You can go, Duniasha, I'll call you presently,' said Kitty. `Kostia, what's the matter?' she asked, definitely adopting this familiar name as soon as the maid had gone out. She noticed his strange face, agitated and gloomy, and a panic came over her.
`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.
