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the boundless grace of the Creator； all of whose acts； though for the most part we comprehend them not； are but manifestations of His infinite love for His creatures。 Perhaps； I often think； she was of too angelic an innocence to have the force to perform all a mother’s duties。 As a young wife； she was irreproachable； possibly she could not have been equally so as a mother。 As it is； not only has she left us； and particularly Prince Andrey； the purest memories and regrets； but there she is in all likelihood receiving a place for which I dare not hope for myself。 But not to speak of her alone； that early and terrible death has had the most blessed influence on me and on my brother； in spite of all our grief。 At the time； at the moment of our loss； I could not have entertained such thoughts； at that time I should have dismissed them in horror； but now it seems clear and incontestable。 I write all this to you； dear friend； simply to convince you of the Gospel truth； which has become a principle of life for me： not one hair of our head falls without His will。 And the guiding principle of His will is only His infinite love for us； and so whatever may befall us； all is for our good。
“You ask whether we shall spend next winter in Moscow。 In spite of all my desire to see you； I do not expect and do not wish to do so。 And you will be surprised to hear that Bonaparte is responsible for this！ I will tell you why： my father’s health is noticeably weaker； he cannot endure contradiction and is easily irritated。 This irritability is； as you are aware； most readily aroused on political subjects。 He cannot endure the idea that Bonaparte is treating on equal terms with all the sovereigns of Europe； especially our own； the grandson of the great Catherine！ As you know； I take absolutely no interest in politics； but from my father and his conversations with Mihail Ivanovitch； I know all that goes on in the world； and have heard of all the honours conferred on Bonaparte。 It seems that Bleak Hills is now the only spot on the terrestrial globe where he is not recognised as a great man—still less as Emperor of France。 And my father cannot tolerate this state of things。 It seems to me that my father shows a disinclination for the visit to Moscow； chiefly owing to his political views and his foreseeing the difficulties likely to arise from his habit of expressing his opinions freely with no regard for any one。 All that he would gain from medical treatment in Moscow； he would lose from the inevitable discussions upon Bonaparte。 In any case the matter will very soon be settled。
“Our home life goes on in its old way； except for the absence of my brother Andrey。 As I wrote to you before； he has greatly changed of late。 It is only of late； during this year that he seems to have quite recovered from the shock of his loss。 He has become again just as I knew him as a child； good…natured； affectionate； with a heart such as I know in no one else。 He feels now； it seems to me； that life is not over for him。 But； together with this moral change； he has become very weak physically。 He is thinner than ever and more nervous。 I feel anxious about him and glad that he is taking this tour abroad； which the doctors prescribed long ago。 I hope that it will cure him。 You write to me that he is spoken of in Petersburg as one of the most capable； cultivated； and intellectual young men。 Forgive me for the pride of family—I never doubted it。 The good he did here to every one—from his peasants to the local nobility—is incalculable。 When he went to Petersburg he was received as he deserved。 I wonder at the way reports fly from Petersburg to Moscow； and especially such groundless ones as the rumour you wrote to me about； of my brother’s supposed engagement to the little Rostov girl。 I don’t imagine that Andrey will ever marry any one at all； and certainly not her。 And I will tell you why。 In the first place； I know that though he rarely speaks of his late wife； the grief of his loss has penetrated too deeply into his heart for him ever to be ready to give her a successor； and our little angel a step…mother。 Secondly； because； as far as I can ascertain； that girl is not one of the kind of women who could attract my brother Andrey。 I do not believe that Andrey has chosen her for his wife； and I will frankly confess； I should not wish for such a thing。 But how I have been running on； I am finishing my second sheet。 Farewell； my sweet friend； and may God keep you in His holy and mighty care。 My dear companion； Mademoiselle Bourienne； sends you kisses。
MARIE。”
Chapter 26
IN THE MIDDLE of the summer Princess Marya； to her surprise； received a letter from Prince Andrey； who was in Switzerland。 In it he told her strange and surprising news。 He informed his sister of his engagement to the younger Rostov。 His whole letter was full of loving enthusiasm for his betrothed； and tender and confiding affection for his sister。 He wrote that he had never loved as he loved now； and that it was only now that he saw all the value and meaning of life。 He begged his sister to forgive him for having said nothing of his plans to her on his last visit to Bleak Hills； though he had spoken of it to his father。 He had said nothing to her for fear Princess Marya would beg her father to give his consent； and； without attaining her object； would irritate her father and draw all the weight of his displeasure upon herself。 The matter was not； however； then； he wrote to her； so completely settled as now。 “At that time our father insisted on a delay of a year； and now six months； half of the period specified； is over； and I remain firmer than ever in my resolution。 If it were not for the doctors keeping me here at the waters I should be back in Russia myself； but； as it is； I must put off my return for another three months。 You know me and my relations with our father。 I want nothing from him。 I have been； and always shall be； independent； but to act in opposition to his will； to incur his anger when he has perhaps not long left to be with us； would destroy half my happiness。 I am writing a letter to him now； and I beg you to choose a favourable moment to give him the letter； and to let me know how he looks at the whole matter； and if there is any hope of his agreeing to shorten the year by three months。”
After long hesitations； doubts； and prayers； Princess Marya gave the letter to her father。 The next day the old prince said to her calmly：
“Write to your brother to wait till I’m dead。… He won’t have long to wait。 I shall soon set him free。”
The princess tried to make some reply； but her father would not let her speak； and went on； getting louder and louder。 “Let him marry； let him marry； the dear fellow。… A nice connection！… Clever people； eh？ Rich； eh？ Oh yes； a fine stepmother for Nikolushka she’ll make！ You write to him he can marry her to…morrow。 Nikolushka shall have her for a stepmother； and I’ll marry little Bourienne！… Ha； ha； ha； and so he shall have a stepmother too！ Only there’s one thing； I won’t have any more women…folk about my house； he may marry and go and live by himself。 Perhaps you’ll go and live with him too？” He turned to Princess Marya： “You’re welcome to