Levin himself, were glad to feel the rain on their hot, sweaty shoulders.
The work went on and on. Some of the swaths were long, others were shorter; here the grass was good, there it was poor. Levin absolutely lost all idea of time and knew not whether it was early or late. In his work a change now began to be visible, and this afforded him vast satisfaction. While he was engaged in this labor there were moments during which he forgot what he was doing and it seemed easy to him, and during these moments his swath came out almost as even and perfect as that done by Sef. But as soon as he became conscious of what he was doing and strove to do better, he immediately began to feel all the difficulty of the work and his swath became poor.
After they had gone over the field one more time, he started to turn back again; but Sef halted, and, going to the old man, whispered something to him. Then the two studied the sun.
"What are they talking about? and why don't they keep on?" thought Levin, without considering that the muzhiks had been mowing for more than four hours, and it was time for them to have their morning meal.
"Breakfast, barin," said the old man.
"Time, is it? Well, breakfast, then."
Levin gave his scythe to Sef, and together with the muzhiks, who were going to their kaftans for their bread, he crossed the wide stretch of field, where the mown grass lay lightly moistened by the shower, and went to his horse. Then only he perceived that he had made a false prediction about the weather, and that the rain had wet his hay.
"The hay will be spoiled," he said.
"No harm done, barin; mow in the rain, rake in the sun," said the old man.
Levin unhitched his horse and went home to take coffee.
Sergyeï Ivanovitch had just got up; before he was dressed and down in the dining-room, Konstantin was back to the field again.
