"They say if anyone's best man more than ten times, he'll never
be married. I wanted to be for the tenth time, but the post was
taken," said Count Siniavin to the pretty Princess Tcharskaya,
who had designs on him.

Princess Tcharskaya only answered with a smile. She looked at
Kitty, thinking how and when she would stand with Count Siniavin
in Kitty's place, and how she would remind him then of his joke
today.

Shtcherbatsky told the old maid of honor, Madame Nikolaeva, that
he meant to put the crown on Kitty's chignon for luck.

"She ought not to have worn a chignon," answered Madame
Nikolaeva, who had long ago made up her mind that if the elderly
widower she was angling for married her, the wedding should be of
the simplest. "I don't like such grandeur."

Sergey Ivanovitch was talking to Darya Dmitrievna, jestingly
assuring her that the custom of going away after the wedding was
becoming common because newly married people always felt a little
ashamed of themselves.

"Your brother may feel proud of himself. She's a marvel of
sweetness. I believe you're envious."

"Oh, I've got over that, Darya Dmitrievna," he answered, and a
melancholy and serious expression suddenly came over his face.

Stepan Arkadyevitch was telling his sister-in-law his joke about
divorce.

"The wreath wants setting straight," she answered, not hearing
him.

"What a pity she's lost her looks so," Countess Nordston said to
Madame Lvova. "Still he's not worth her little finger, is he?"

"Oh, I like him so--not because he's my future _beau-frere_,"
answered Madame Lvova. "And how well he's behaving! It's so
difficult, too, to look well in such a position, not to be
ridiculous. And he's not ridiculous, and not affected; one can
see he's moved."

"You expected it, I suppose?"

"Almost. She always cared for him."

"Well, we shall see which of them will step on the rug first. I
warned Kitty."

"It will make no difference," said Madame Lvova; "we're all
obedient wives; it's in our family."

"Oh, I stepped on the rug before Vassily on purpose. And you,
Dolly?"

Dolly stood beside them; she heard them, but she did not answer.
She was deeply moved. The tears stood in her eyes, and she could
not have spoken without crying. She was rejoicing over Kitty and
Levin; going back in thought to her own wedding, she glanced at
the radiant figure of Stepan Arkadyevitch, forgot all the
present, and remembered only her own innoc