icularly just now--it's your fault," he
said, pressing her hand--"that all that doesn't count. I do it
in a way halfheartedly. If I could care for all that as I care
for you!... Instead of that, I do it in these days like a task
that is set me."

"Well, what would you say about papa?" asked Kitty. "Is he a
poor creature then, as he does nothing for the public good?"

"He?--no! But then one must have the simplicity, the
straightforwardness, the goodness of your father: and I haven't
got that. I do nothing, and I fret about it. It's all your
doing. Before there was you--and _this_ too," he added with a
glance towards her waist that she understood--"I put all my
energies into work; now I can't, and I'm ashamed; I do it just as
though it were a task set me, I'm pretending...."

"Well, but would you like to change this minute with Sergey
Ivanovitch?" said Kitty. "Would you like to do this work for the
general good, and to love the task set you, as he does, and
nothing else?"

"Of course not," said Levin. "But I'm so happy that I don't
understand anything. So you think he'll make her an offer
today?" he added after a brief silence.

"I think so, and I don't think so. Only, I'm awfully anxious for
it. Here, wait a minute." She stooped down and picked a wild
camomile at the edge of the path. "Come, count: he does propose,
he doesn't," she said, giving him the flower.

"He does, he doesn't," said Levin, tearing off the white petals.

"No, no!" Kitty, snatching at his hand, stopped him. She had
been watching his fingers with interest. "You picked off two."

"Oh, but see, this little one shan't count to make up," said
Levin, tearing off a little half-grown petal. "Here's the
wagonette overtaking us."

"Aren't you tired, Kitty?" called the princess.

"Not in the least."

"If you are you can get in, as the horses are quiet and walking."

But it was not worth while to get in, they were quite near the
place, and all walked on together.

Chapter 4

Varenka, with her white kerchief on her black hair, surrounded
by the children, gaily and good-humoredly looking after them, and
at the same time visibly excited at the possibility of receiving
a declaration from the man she cared for, was very attractive.
Sergey Ivanovitch walked beside her, and never left off admiring
her. Looking at her, he recalled all the delightful things he
had heard from her lips, all the good he knew about her, and
became more