Don Quixote

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; but
what could I do? It's not my fault," she said to herself; but an inner
voice told her otherwise. Whether she felt remorse at having
captivated Levin, or at having refused him, she did not know. But
her happiness was poisoned by doubts. "Lord, have pity on us; Lord,
have pity, Lord, have pity!" she said over to herself till she fell
asleep.
Meanwhile there took place below, in the Prince's little study,
one of the scenes so often repeated between the parents on account
of their favorite daughter.
"What? I'll tell you what!" shouted the Prince, brandishing his
arms, and at once wrapping his squirrel-lined dressing gown round
him again. "That you've no pride, no dignity; that you're
disgracing, ruining your daughter by this vulgar, stupid matchmaking!"
"But, really, for mercy's sake, Prince, what have I done?" said
the Princess, almost crying.
She, pleased and happy after her conversation with her daughter, had
gone to the Prince to say good night as usual, and though she had no
intention of telling him of Levin's proposal and Kitty's refusal,
still she hinted to her husband that she fancied things were
practically settled with Vronsky, and would be definitely so as soon
as his mother arrived. And thereupon, at those words, the Prince had
all at once flown into a passion, and begun to use unseemly language.
{PART_ONE|CHAPTER_XV ^paragraph 5}
"What have you done? I'll tell you what. First of all, you're trying
to allure an eligible gentleman, and all Moscow will be talking of it,
and with good reason. If you have evening parties, invite everyone,
don't pick out the possible suitors. Invite all these whelps [so the
Prince styled the youths of Moscow]; engage a piano player, and let
them dance- and not as you did tonight: only the wooers, and doing
your matching. It makes me sick- sick to see it- and you've gone on
till you've turned the poor lass's head. Levin's a thousand times
the better man. As for this Peterburg swell- they're turned out by
machinery, all on one pattern, and all precious rubbish. But if he
were a prince of the blood, my daughter need not run after anyone."
"But what have I done?"
"Why, you've..." The Prince was yelling wrathfully.
"I know if one were to listen to you," interrupted the Princess, "we
should never marry off our daughter. If it's to be so, we'd better
go into the country."
"Well, we had better."
{PART_ONE|CHAPTER_XV ^paragraph 10}
"But do wait a minute. Do I wheedle them? I don't wheedle them in
the least. A young man, and a very nice one, has fallen in love with
her, and she, I fancy..."
"Oh, yes, you fancy! And how if she really is in love, and he's no
more thinking of marriage than I am!... Oh, that I should live to
see it!... "Ah- spiritualism! Ah- Nice! Ah- the ball!'" And the
Prince, imagining that he was mimicking his wife,