“But what will you do?” continued Natalia Ivanovna.

“I will do what I can.  I do not know what, but I feel that I must do something.  And I will do what I can.”

“Yes, yes, I understand that.  And what about him?” she said, smiling and nodding in the direction of Korchagin.  “Is it really all over?”

“Yes, it is and I think without regret on either side.”

“I am very sorry.  I like her.  But I suppose it must be so.  But why should you bind yourself?  Why are you following her?”

“Because it is proper that I should,” Nekhludoff said dryly, as though desiring to change the subject.

But he immediately felt ashamed of his coldness to his sister.  “Why should I not tell her what I think?” he thought; “and let Agrippina Petrovna also know it,” he said to himself, looking at the old servant.

The presence of Agrippina Petrovna only encouraged him to repeat his decision to his sister.

“You are speaking of my intention to marry Katiusha.  You see, I have decided to do it, but she firmly and decidedly refused me,” he said, and his voice trembled, as it always did when he spoke of it.  “She does not desire my sacrifice, and in her position she sacrifices very much, and I could not accept her sacrifice, even if it were only momentary.  That is why I am following her, and I will be near her, and will endeavor to relieve her condition as far as I am able.”

Natalia Ivanovna was silent.  Agrippina Petrovna looked inquiringly at Natalia Ivanovna, shaking her head.  At that moment the procession started again from the ladies’ room.  The same handsome Phillip and the porter were bearing the Princess.  She stopped the bearers, beckoned Nekhludoff to her side, and in a piteously languid manner extended her white, ring-bedecked hand, with horror anticipating the hard pressure of his.

“Epouvantable!” she said of the heat.  “It is unbearable. Ce climat me tue.” And having said a few words of the horrors of the Russian climate, and invited Nekhludoff to visit them, she gave a sign to the bearers.  “Don’t fail to come, now,” she added, turning her long face to Nekhludoff.

Nekhludoff went out on the platform.  The procession turned to the right, toward the first-class coaches.  Nekhludoff, with a porter who carried his baggage, and Tarass, with his bags, turned to the left.

“That is my comrade,” Nekhludoff said to his sister, pointing to Tarass, whose story he had told her before.

“What, are you taking the third class?” asked Natalia Ivanovna, when Nekhludoff stopped before a third-class car and the porter, with Tarass, entered it.

“Yes, I will have it more convenient then.  Tarass is with me.  Another thing,” he added.  “I have not yet given the Kusminskoie land to the peasants.  So that, in case of my death, your children will inherit it.”

“Dmitri, don’t talk that way,” said Natalia Ivanovna.