Book 1 Chapter 15 The Early Mass

Nekhludoff passed up to the front. In the middle of the church
stood the aristocracy of the place: a landed proprietor, with his
wife and son (the latter dressed in a sailor's suit), the police
officer, the telegraph clerk, a tradesman in top-boots, and the
village elder, with a medal on his breast; and to the right of
the ambo, just behind the landed proprietor's wife, stood Matrona
Pavlovna in a lilac dress and fringed shawl and Katusha in a
white dress with a tucked bodice, blue sash, and red bow in her
black hair.

Everything seemed festive, solemn, bright, and beautiful: the
priest in his silver cloth vestments with gold crosses; the
deacon, the clerk and chanter in their silver and gold surplices;
the amateur choristers in their best clothes, with their
well-oiled hair; the merry tunes of the holiday hymns that
sounded like dance music; and the continual blessing of the
people by the priests, who held candles decorated with flowers,
and repeated the cry of "Christ is risen!" "Christ is risen!" All
was beautiful; but, above all, Katusha, in her white dress, blue
sash, and the red bow on her black head, her eyes beaming with
rapture.

Nekhludoff knew that she felt his presence without looking at
him. He noticed this as he passed her, walking up to the altar.
He had nothing to tell her, but he invented something to say and
whispered as he passed her: "Aunt told me that she would break
her fast after the late mass." The young blood rushed up to
Katusha's sweet face, as it always did when she looked at him.
The black eyes, laughing and full of joy, gazed naively up and
remained fixed on Nekhludoff.