Anna Karenina - Part 1 - Page 58/119

"But what have I done?"

"Why, you've..." The prince was crying wrathfully.

"I know if one were to listen to you," interrupted the princess,

"we should never marry our daughter. If it's to be so, we'd

better go into the country."

"Well, and we had better."

"But do wait a minute. Do I try and catch them? I don't try to

catch them in the least. A young man, and a very nice one, has

fallen in love with her, and she, I fancy..."

"Oh, yes, you fancy! And how if she really is in love, and he's

no more thinking of marriage than I am!... Oh, that I should

live to see it! Ah! spiritualism! Ah! Nice! Ah! the ball!"

And the prince, imagining that he was mimicking his wife, made a

mincing curtsey at each word. "And this is how we're preparing

wretchedness for Kitty; and she's really got the notion into her

head..."

"But what makes you suppose so?"

"I don't suppose; I know. We have eyes for such things, though

women-folk haven't. I see a man who has serious intentions,

that's Levin: and I see a peacock, like this feather-head, who's

only amusing himself."

"Oh, well, when once you get an idea into your head!..."

"Well, you'll remember my words, but too late, just as with

Dolly."

"Well, well, we won't talk of it," the princess stopped him,

recollecting her unlucky Dolly.

"By all means, and good night!"

And signing each other with the cross, the husband and wife

parted with a kiss, feeling that they each remained of their own

opinion.

The princess had at first been quite certain that that evening

had settled Kitty's future, and that there could be no doubt of

Vronsky's intentions, but her husband's words had disturbed her.

And returning to her own room, in terror before the unknown

future, she, too, like Kitty, repeated several times in her

heart, "Lord, have pity; Lord, have pity; Lord, have pity."