But do you know what you are going to, poor dove? Think, Mimotchka; won't you stop before it is too late?...
Why?... And what is the good of thinking about it? Every one does it. Some time or other the step must be taken. It seems it must. And how can one escape from it?...
[9] One of the highest Russian orders.
[10] The opening words of the hymn sung in the marriage service when the bride enters the church.
But you're pale, Mimotchka; you lower your eyelashes, and the wax taper trembles in your little hand.... Are you afraid? Are you ashamed?
No; only nervous and ill at ease.... In the church it seems cold.... Or does the bodice press?... Something feels strange, unpleasant.... And then how every one stares!...
But my thoughts are wandering. Mimotchka is not yet even in the church. She is still in her room, standing before the large mirror; she cannot tear herself away from the contemplation of herself in her new dress.
Her toilet is finished. The veil and wreath are unusually becoming to the bride, and so everyone tells her; but Mimotchka no longer smiles her usual, unchanging smile. She is a little agitated. On her cheek there is a pink spot, her hand slightly trembles as she draws on her glove. Why does she feel so cold?
All those around her are agitated too. The maid Douniasha makes faces as she gulps down her tears. Lulushka or Turlurette yelps and barks, offended because she is turned off Mimotchka's train. They all surround the bride, looking at her from all sides, arranging her dress, her veil, giving her her gloves, scent....
It's time, Mimotchka, time! Go into the drawing-room now for your mother to bless you before you leave. The bridegroom is already in church.... Make haste; they are waiting for you....