wanted
everything to be done quietly; at her wish our "best men" were
peasant lads, the sacristan sang alone, and we came back from the
church in a small, jolting chaise which she drove herself. Our only
guest from the town was my sister Kleopatra, to whom Masha sent a
note three days before the wedding. My sister came in a white dress
and wore gloves. During the wedding she cried quietly from joy and
tenderness. Her expression was motherly and infinitely kind. She
was intoxicated with our happiness, and smiled as though she were
absorbing a sweet delirium, and looking at her during our wedding,
I realized that for her there was nothing in the world higher than
love, earthly love, and that she was dreaming of it secretly,
timidly, but continually and passionately. She embraced and kissed
Masha, and, not knowing how to express her rapture, said to her of
me: "He is good! He is very good!"

Before she went away she changed into her ordinary dress, and drew
me into the garden to talk to me alone.

"Father is very much hurt," she said, "that you have written nothing
to him. You ought to have asked for his blessing. But in reality
he is very much pleased. He says that this marriage will raise you
in the eyes of all society, and that under the influence of Mariya
Viktorovna you will begin to take a more serious view of life. We
talk of nothing but you in the evenings now, and yesterday he
actually used the expression: 'Our Misail.' That pleased me. It
seems as though he had some plan in his mind, and I fancy he wants
to set you an example of magnanimity and be the first to speak of
reconciliation. It is very possible he may come here to see you in
a day or two."

She hurriedly made the sign of the cross over me several times and
said:

"Well, God be with you. Be happy. Anyuta Blagovo is a very clever
girl; she says about your marriage that God is sending you a fresh
ordeal. To be sure--married life does not bring only joy but
suffering too. That's bound to be so."

Masha and I walked a couple of miles to see her on her way; we
walked back slowly and in silence, as though we were resting. Masha
held my hand, my heart felt light, and I had no inclination to talk
about love; we had become closer and more akin now that we were
married, and we felt that nothing now could separate us.

"Your sister is a nice creature," said Masha, "but it seems as
though she had been tormented for years. Your father must be a
terrible ma