"To whom shall I announce you, sir?" asked a jackey.
This lackey, though young, new in the house, and with some pretension to elegance, was very obliging, very attentive, and he, too, seemed to understand the situation.
"To the princess .... I mean the prince .... no, the young princess,"[1] replied Levin.
The first person whom he met was Mademoiselle Linon. She was passing through the "hall," radiant in her little curls and her shining face. He had hardly spoken to her when the rustling of a dress was heard at the door. Mademoiselle Linon disappeared from before his eyes, and a joyous trepidation at the thought of the happiness so near took possession of him. Mademoiselle Linon hastened away and vanished through another door. She had hardly gone when swift light steps were heard pattering on the inlaid floor, and his happiness, his life, the better part of himself, that which he had yearned for so long, drew near. She did not walk; some invisible power seemed to bring her toward him.
He saw only her bright, truthful eyes, filled with the same timid joy of love that filled his own heart. These eyes, shining nearer and nearer to him, almost blinded him with their light of love.
She stood before him, almost touching him; then she placed her two hands gently on his shoulders.
She did all that she could: she went to him; she gave herself to him, trembling and happy. He folded her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers, expectant of his kiss.
She, too, had not slept at all that night, and she had been waiting for him all the morning.
Her parents were perfectly agreed, and happy in her happiness. She had been on the watch for his coming.
- ↑ Knyaginya, knyaz' , knyazhna. Knyaginya is the Russian title of a married princess; it also means in popular usage a bride, as knya' means prince and bridegroom; knyazhna is applied to an unmarried princess.
