| PART 5
Chapter 4
 "They've come!"  "Here he is!"  "Which one?"  "Rather young, eh?"
 "Why, my dear soul, she looks more dead than alive!" were the
 comments in the crowd, when Levin, meeting his bride in the
 entrance, walked with her into the church. Stepan Arkadyevitch told his wife the cause of the delay, and the
 guests were whispering it with smiles to one another.  Levin saw
 nothing and no one; he did not take his eyes off his bride. Everyone said she had lost her looks dreadfully of late, and was
 not nearly so pretty on her wedding day as usual; but Levin did
 not think so.  He looked at her hair done up high, with the long
 white veil and white flowers and the high, stand-up, scalloped
 collar, that in such a maidenly fashion hid her long neck at the
 sides and only showed it in front, her strikingly slender figure,
 and it seemed to him that she looked better than ever--not
 because these flowers, this veil, this gown from Paris added
 anything to her beauty; but because, in spite of the elaborate
 sumptuousness of her attire, the expression of her sweet face, of
 her eyes, of her lips was still her own characteristic expression
 of guileless truthfulness. "I was beginning to think you meant to run away," she said, and
 smiled to him. "It's so stupid, what happened to me, I'm ashamed to speak of
 it!" he said, reddening, and he was obliged to turn to Sergey
 Ivanovitch, who came up to him. "This is a pretty story of yours about the shirt!" said Sergey
 Ivanovitch, shaking his head and smiling. "Yes, yes!" answered Levin, without an idea of what they were
 talking about. "Now, Kostya, you have to decide," said Stepan Arkadyevitch with
 an air of mock dismay, "a weighty question.  You are at this
 moment just in the humor to appreciate all its gravity.  They ask
 me, are they to light the candles that have been lighted before
 or candles that have never been lighted? It's a matter of ten
 roubles," he added, relaxing his lips into a smile.  "I have
 decided, but I was afraid you might not agree." |