ing his brother, and that his wife was probably troubled because he was gone so long, and he tried to guess who the unknown guest who had come with his brother might be. And his brother and his wife and the unknown guest now seemed to him different from what they had been before. He felt that henceforth all his relations with these friends would be more pleasant than they had been.
"Now there shall be no more of that coldness, such as there used to be, between my brother and me .... no more disputes. Nor will Kitty and I quarrel any more; and whoever my guest is I shall be polite to him, and kind to the servants and to Ivan .... all will be different."
And holding in his good horse, which was whinnying with impatience and pleading for permission to show his paces, Levin kept looking at Ivan, who was sitting next him, not knowing what to do with his idle hands, and constantly pulling down his shirt, which the wind tugged at; and in his attempt to find a pretext for beginning a conversation with the man, he thought of saying that the horse's girth was buckled up too tightly, but then this seemed like censuring him, and he wanted to say something pleasant.
"You had better turn to the right and avoid that stump," said the coachman, taking hold of one of the reins.
"Please not touch, or try to give me lessons," said Levin, exasperated by his coachman's interference. Just the same as always he was made angry by any interference with his affairs, and he immediately became conscious how mistaken he was in supposing for a moment that his new spiritual condition could keep its character unchanged on contact with the reality.
When they had arrived within a quarter of a verst of the house, Levin saw Grisha and Tania running to meet him.
"Uncle Kostia, mamma is coming, and grandpa and Sergyeï Ivanovitch and some one else," they cried, as they ran up to the cart.
"Tell me, who is it?"
