The fourth matter he meant to attend to was the case of some sectarians who had been separated from their families and exiled to the Caucasus because they read and discussed the Gospels.  It was not so much to them as to himself he had promised to do all he could to clear up this affair.

Since his last visit to Maslennikoff, and especially since he had been in the country, Nekhludoff had not exactly formed a resolution but felt with his whole nature a loathing for that society in which he had lived till then, that society which so carefully hides the sufferings of millions in order to assure ease and pleasure to a small number of people, that the people belonging to this society do not and cannot see these sufferings, nor the cruelty and wickedness of their life.  Nekhludoff could no longer move in this society without feeling ill at ease and reproaching himself.  And yet all the ties of relationship and friendship, and his own habits, were drawing him back into this society.  Besides, that which alone interested him now, his desire to help Maslova and the other sufferers, made it necessary to ask for help and service from persons belonging to that society, persons whom he not only could not respect, but who often aroused in him indignation and a feeling of contempt.

When he came to Petersburg and stopped at his aunt’s—­his mother’s sister, the Countess Tcharsky, wife of a former minister—­Nekhludoff at once found himself in the very midst of that aristocratic circle which had grown so foreign to him.  This was very unpleasant, but there was no possibility of getting out of it.  To put up at an hotel instead of at his aunt’s house would have been to offend his aunt, and, besides, his aunt had important connections and might be extremely useful in all these matters he meant to attend to.

“What is this I hear about you?  All sorts of marvels,” said the Countess Katerina Ivanovna Tcharsky, as she gave him his coffee immediately after his arrival. “Vous posez pour un Howard.  Helping criminals, going the round of prisons, setting things right.”

“Oh, no.  I never thought of it.”

“Why not?  It is a good thing, only there seems to be some romantic story connected with it.  Let us hear all about it.”

Nekhludoff told her the whole truth about his relations to Maslova.

“Yes, yes, I remember your poor mother telling me about it.  That was when you were staying with those old women.  I believe they wished to marry you to their ward (the Countess Katerina Ivanovna had always despised Nekhludoff’s aunts on his father’s side).  So it’s she. Elle est encore jolie?”

Katerina Ivanovna was a strong, bright, energetic, talkative woman of 60.  She was tall and very stout, and had a decided black moustache on her lip.  Nekhludoff was fond of her and had even as a child been infected by her energy and mirth.

“No, ma tante, that’s at an end.  I only wish to help her, because she is innocently accused.  I am the cause of it and the cause of her fate being what it is.  I feel it my duty to do all I can for her.”