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"
Mary
,
you
must
despise
me
!
"
he
would
say
.
"
I
deserve
it
.
"
"
You
should
go
,
go
away
at
once
,
if
you
do
n't
feel
strong
enough
to
control
yourself
,
"
she
would
reply
sadly
,
trying
to
comfort
her
husband
.
Among
the
gentry
of
the
province
Nicholas
was
respected
but
not
liked
.
He
did
not
concern
himself
with
the
interests
of
his
own
class
,
and
consequently
some
thought
him
proud
and
others
thought
him
stupid
.
The
whole
summer
,
from
spring
sowing
to
harvest
,
he
was
busy
with
the
work
on
his
farm
.
In
autumn
he
gave
himself
up
to
hunting
with
the
same
business-like
seriousness
--
leaving
home
for
a
month
,
or
even
two
,
with
his
hunt
.
In
winter
he
visited
his
other
villages
or
spent
his
time
reading
.
The
books
he
read
were
chiefly
historical
,
and
on
these
he
spent
a
certain
sum
every
year
.
He
was
collecting
,
as
he
said
,
a
serious
library
,
and
he
made
it
a
rule
to
read
through
all
the
books
he
bought
.
He
would
sit
in
his
study
with
a
grave
air
,
reading
--
a
task
he
first
imposed
upon
himself
as
a
duty
,
but
which
afterwards
became
a
habit
affording
him
a
special
kind
of
pleasure
and
a
consciousness
of
being
occupied
with
serious
matters
.
In
winter
,
except
for
business
excursions
,
he
spent
most
of
his
time
at
home
making
himself
one
with
his
family
and
entering
into
all
the
details
of
his
children
's
relations
with
their
mother
.
The
harmony
between
him
and
his
wife
grew
closer
and
closer
and
he
daily
discovered
fresh
spiritual
treasures
in
her
.
From
the
time
of
his
marriage
Sónya
had
lived
in
his
house
.
Before
that
,
Nicholas
had
told
his
wife
all
that
had
passed
between
himself
and
Sónya
,
blaming
himself
and
commending
her
.
He
had
asked
Princess
Mary
to
be
gentle
and
kind
to
his
cousin
.
She
thoroughly
realized
the
wrong
he
had
done
Sónya
,
felt
herself
to
blame
toward
her
,
and
imagined
that
her
wealth
had
influenced
Nicholas
'
choice
.
She
could
not
find
fault
with
Sónya
in
any
way
and
tried
to
be
fond
of
her
,
but
often
felt
ill-will
toward
her
which
she
could
not
overcome
.
Once
she
had
a
talk
with
her
friend
Natásha
about
Sónya
and
about
her
own
injustice
toward
her
.
"
You
know
,
"
said
Natásha
,
"
you
have
read
the
Gospels
a
great
deal
--
there
is
a
passage
in
them
that
just
fits
Sónya
.
"
"
What
?
"
asked
Countess
Mary
,
surprised
.
"'
To
him
that
hath
shall
be
given
,
and
from
him
that
hath
not
shall
be
taken
away
.
'
You
remember
?
She
is
one
that
hath
not
;
why
,
I
do
n't
know
.
Perhaps
she
lacks
egotism
,
I
do
n't
know
,
but
from
her
is
taken
away
,
and
everything
has
been
taken
away
.
Sometimes
I
am
dreadfully
sorry
for
her
.
Formerly
I
very
much
wanted
Nicholas
to
marry
her
,
but
I
always
had
a
sort
of
presentiment
that
it
would
not
come
off
.
She
is
a
sterile
flower
,
you
know
--
like
some
strawberry
blossoms
.
Sometimes
I
am
sorry
for
her
,
and
sometimes
I
think
she
does
n't
feel
it
as
you
or
I
would
.
"
Though
Countess
Mary
told
Natásha
that
those
words
in
the
Gospel
must
be
understood
differently
,
yet
looking
at
Sónya
she
agreed
with
Natásha
's
explanation
It
really
seemed
that
Sónya
did
not
feel
her
position
trying
,
and
had
grown
quite
reconciled
to
her
lot
as
a
sterile
flower
.
She
seemed
to
be
fond
not
so
much
of
individuals
as
of
the
family
as
a
whole
.
Like
a
cat
,
she
had
attached
herself
not
to
the
people
but
to
the
home
.
She
waited
on
the
old
countess
,
petted
and
spoiled
the
children
,
was
always
ready
to
render
the
small
services
for
which
she
had
a
gift
,
and
all
this
was
unconsciously
accepted
from
her
with
insufficient
gratitude
.
