“Can it be true?” thought Levin, and he looked round at his bride.  Looking down at her he saw her face in profile, and from the scarcely perceptible quiver of her lips and eyelashes he knew she was aware of his eyes upon her.  She did not look round, but the high scalloped collar, that reached her little pink ear, trembled faintly.  He saw that a sigh was held back in her throat, and the little hand in the long glove shook as it held the candle.

All the fuss of the shirt, of being late, all the talk of friends and relations, their annoyance, his ludicrous position—­all suddenly passed away and he was filled with joy and dread.

The handsome, stately head-deacon wearing a silver robe and his curly locks standing out at each side of his head, stepped smartly forward, and lifting his stole on two fingers, stood opposite the priest.

“Blessed be the name of the Lord,” the solemn syllables rang out slowly one after another, setting the air quivering with waves of sound.

“Blessed is the name of our God, from the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,” the little old priest answered in a submissive, piping voice, still fingering something at the lectern.  And the full chorus of the unseen choir rose up, filling the whole church, from the windows to the vaulted roof, with broad waves of melody.  It grew stronger, rested for an instant, and slowly died away.

They prayed, as they always do, for peace from on high and for salvation, for the Holy Synod, and for the Tsar; they prayed, too, for the servants of God, Konstantin and Ekaterina, now plighting their troth.

“Vouchsafe to them love made perfect, peace and help, O Lord, we beseech Thee,” the whole church seemed to breathe with the voice of the head deacon.

Levin heard the words, and they impressed him.  “How did they guess that it is help, just help that one wants?” he thought, recalling all his fears and doubts of late.  “What do I know? what can I do in this fearful business,” he thought, “without help?  Yes, it is help I want now.”

When the deacon had finished the prayer for the Imperial family, the priest turned to the bridal pair with a book:  “Eternal God, that joinest together in love them that were separate,” he read in a gentle, piping voice:  “who hast ordained the union of holy wedlock that cannot be set asunder, Thou who didst bless Isaac and Rebecca and their descendants, according to Thy Holy Covenant; bless Thy servants, Konstantin and Ekaterina, leading them in the path of all good works.  For gracious and merciful art Thou, our Lord, and glory be to Thee, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, now and ever shall be.”

“Amen!” the unseen choir sent rolling again upon the air.

“‘Joinest together in love them that were separate.’  What deep meaning in those words, and how they correspond with what one feels at this moment,” thought Levin.  “Is she feeling the same as I?”