Not only did he know everything, but he was obviously exultant and was making efforts to hide his joy. Looking into his dear old eyes, Levin even understood something new in his happiness.
‘Are they up?’
‘Come in, please! You might leave it here,’ he said, smiling, as Levin was about to go back for his hat. That must have meant something.
‘To whom shall I announce you?’ asked the footman.
The footman, though young and of the new sort, a dandy, was a very kind and good man, and also understood everything.
‘The princess ... The prince ... The young princess ...’ said Levin.
The first person he saw was Mlle Linon. She passed through the room, her curls and face beaming. No sooner had he addressed her than the rustle of a dress was suddenly heard behind the door, and Mlle Linon vanished from Levin’s sight, and the joyful terror of the nearness of his happiness communicated itself to him. Mlle Linon hastened away and, leaving him, went to the other door. As soon as she went out, there came the sound of quick, quick, light steps over the parquet, and his happiness, his life, he himself - better than his own self, that which he had sought and desired for so long - was quickly approaching him. She did not walk but by some invisible force rushed towards him.
He saw only her clear, truthful eyes, frightened by the same joy of love that filled his heart. Those eyes shone nearer and nearer, blinding him by their light of love. She stopped up close to him, touching him. Her arms rose and came down on his shoulders.
She had done all she could - she had run up to him and given all of herself, timidly and joyfully. He embraced her and pressed his lips to her mouth that sought his kiss.
She, too, had not slept all night and all morning had been waiting for him. Her mother and father had consented without question and were happy in her happiness. She had been waiting for him. She had wanted to be the first to announce to him her happiness and his. She had been preparing to meet him alone and rejoiced at the thought of it, and felt timid, and bashful, and did not know herself what she would do. She had heard his footsteps and voice and had waited behind the door till Mlle Linon left. Without thinking, without asking herself how or what, she had gone up to him and done what she had done.
‘Let’s go to mama!’ she said, taking him by the hand. For a long time he could say nothing, not so much because he was afraid to spoil the loftiness of his feeling with words, as because each time he wanted to say something he felt that, instead of words, tears of happiness were about to burst out. He took her hand and kissed it.
‘Can this be true?’ he said finally in a muted voice. ‘I can’t believe you love me!’
She smiled at these words and at the timidity with which he glanced at her.
‘Yes!’ she said meaningly and slowly. ‘I’m so happy!’
Without letting go of his hand, she went into the drawing room. The princess, seeing them, began breathing quickly and immediately broke down in tears, then immediately burst out laughing and, running to them with energetic strides that Levin would never have expected of her, embraced his head, kissed him and wetted his cheeks with tears.
‘So it’s all settled! I’m glad. Love her. I’m glad ... Kitty!’
‘That was quick work!’ said the old prince, trying to be indifferent; but Levin noticed that his eyes were moist when he addressed him.
‘I’ve long, I’ve always wished for this!’ he said, taking Levin’s hand and drawing him to him. ‘Even then, when this flighty one took a notion ...’
‘Papa!’ Kitty cried and covered his mouth with her hand.
‘Well, all right!’ he said. ‘I’m very, very ... hap ... Ah! how stupid I am...’
He embraced Kitty, kissed her face, her hand, her face again, and made the sign of the cross over her.
And Levin was overcome by a new feeling of love for this man previously a stranger to him, the old prince, when he saw how long and tenderly Kitty kissed his fleshy hand.
XVI
The princess sat in an armchair, silent and smiling; the prince sat beside her. Kitty stood by her father’s chair, still holding his hand. Everyone was silent.
The princess was the first to put names to things and translate all thoughts and feelings into questions of life. And it seemed equally strange and even painful to them all in the first moment.
‘So, when? We must bless you and announce it. And when will the wedding be? What do you think, Alexandre?’
‘He’s the one,’ said the old prince, pointing at Levin, ‘he’s the chief person here.’
‘When?’ said Levin, blushing. ‘Tomorrow. If you ask me, in my opinion, the blessing today and the wedding tomorrow.’
‘Come, come,
‘Well, in a week, then.’
‘He’s quite mad.’
‘No, why?’
‘Mercy!’ said the mother, smiling joyfully at his haste. ‘And the trousseau?’
