Nekhludoff went to visit his aunts because their estate lay near
the road he had to travel in order to join his regiment, which
had gone forward, because they had very warmly asked him to come,
and especially because he wanted to see Katusha. Perhaps in his
heart he had already formed those evil designs against Katusha
which his now uncontrolled animal self suggested to him, but he
did not acknowledge this as his intention, but only wished to go
back to the spot where he had been so happy, to see his rather
funny, but dear, kind-hearted old aunts, who always, without his
noticing it, surrounded him with an atmosphere of love and
admiration, and to see sweet Katusha, of whom he had retained so
pleasant a memory.
He arrived at the end of March, on Good Friday, after the thaw
had set in. It was pouring with rain so that he had not a dry
thread on him and was feeling very cold, but yet vigorous and
full of spirits, as always at that time. "Is she still with
them?" he thought, as he drove into the familiar, old-fashioned
courtyard, surrounded by a low brick wall, and now filled with
snow off the roofs.
He expected she would come out when she heard the sledge bells
but she did not. Two bare-footed women with pails and tucked-up
skirts, who had evidently been scrubbing the floors, came out of
the side door. She was not at the front door either, and only
Tikhon, the man-servant, with his apron on, evidently also busy
cleaning, came out into the front porch. His aunt Sophia Ivanovna
alone met him in the ante-room; she had a silk dress on and a cap
on her head. Both aunts had been to church and had received
communion.
"Well, this is nice of you to come," said Sophia Ivanovna,
kissing him. "Mary is not well, got tired in church; we have been
to communion."
"I congratulate you, Aunt Sophia," [it is usual in Russia to
congratulate those who have received communion] said Nekhludoff,
kissing Sophia Ivanovna's hand. "Oh, I beg your pardon, I have
made you wet."
"Go to your room--why you are soaking wet. Dear me, you have got
moustaches! . . . Katusha! Katusha! Get him some coffee; be
quick."
"Directly," came the sound of a well-known, pleasant voice from
the passage, and Nekhludoff's heart cried out "She's here!" and
it was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds.
Nekhludoff, followed by Tikhon, went gaily to his old room to
change his things. He felt inclined to ask Tikhon about Katusha;
how she was, what she was doing, was she not going to be married?
But Tikhon was so respectful and at the same time so severe,
insisted so firmly on pouring the water out of the jug for him,
that Nekhludoff could not make up his mind to ask him about
Katusha, but only inquired about Tikhon's grandsons, about the
old so-called "brother's" horse, and about the dog Polkan. All
were alive except Polkan, who had gone mad the summer before.