Emma Watson Pussy
War And Peace
be dissatisfied with yourself if you are
"Well, how shall I say?... In my heart I really care for nothing
whatever but that you should not stumble--see? Oh, but really
you mustnt skip about like that!" he cried, breaking off to
scold her for too agile a movement in stepping over a branch that
lay in the path. "But when I think about myself, and compare
myself with others, especially with my brother, I feel Im a poor
"But in what way?" Kitty pursued with the same smile. "Dont you
too work for others? What about your co-operative settlement,
and your work on the estate, and your book?..."
"Oh, but I feel, and particularly just now--its your fault," he
said, pressing her hand--"that all that doesnt 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 havent
got that. I do nothing, and I fret about it. Its 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 cant, and Im ashamed; I do it just as
though it were a task set me, Im 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
"Of course not," said Levin. "But Im so happy that I dont
understand anything. So you think hell make her an offer
today?" he added after a brief silence.
"I think so, and I dont think so. Only, Im 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 doesnt," she said, giving him the flower.
"He does, he doesnt," 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 shant count to make up," said
Levin, tearing off a little half-grown petal. "Heres the
wagonette overtaking us."
"Arent 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.
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 and more conscious that the feeling he had for her
was something special that he had felt long, long ago, and only
once, in his early youth. The feeling of happiness in being near
her continually grew, and at last reached such a point that, as
he put a huge, slender-stalked agaric fungus in her basket, he
looked straight into her face, and noticing the flush of glad and
alarmed excitement that overspread her face, he was confused
himself, and smiled to her in silence a smile that said too much.
"If so," he said to himself, "I ought to think it over and make
up my mind, and not give way like a boy to the impulse of a
"Im going to pick by myself apart from all the rest, or else my
efforts will make no show," he said, and he left the edge of the
forest where they were walking on low silky grass between old
birch trees standing far apart, and went more into the heart of
the wood, where between the white birch trunks there were gray
trunks of aspen and dark bushes of hazel. Walking some
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