 26. In the middle of the summer, Princess Miri received an unexpected letter from the Prince Andrew in Switzerland, in which he gave her strange and surprising news. He informed her of his engagement to Natasha Rostova. The whole letter breathed loving rupture for his betrothed and tender and confiding affection for his sister. He wrote that he had never loved as he did now, and that only now did he understand and know what life was. He asked his sister to forgive him for not having told her of his resolve when he had last visited Bald Hills, though he had spoken of it to his father. He had not done so far fear Princess Miri should ask her father to give his consent, irritating him and having to bear the brunt of his displeasure without attaining her object. Besides, he wrote, The matter was not so definitely settled as it is now. My father then insisted on a delay of a year and now already six months, half of that period have passed, and my resolution is firmer than ever. If the doctors did not keep me here at this pass, I should be back in Russia, but as it is, I have to postpone my return for three months. You know me and my relations with father. I want nothing from him. I have been and always shall be independent, but to go against his will and arouse his anger, now that he may perhaps remain with us such as short time would destroy half my happiness. I am now writing to him about the same question, and beg you to choose a good moment to hand him the letter and to let me know how he looks at the whole matter and whether there is hope that he may consent to deduce the term by four months. After long hesitations, doubts and prayers, Princess Miri gave the letter to her father. The next day the old prince said to her quietly, Write and tell your brother to wait till I am dead. It won't be long. I shall soon set him free. The prince was about to reply, but her father would not let her speak, and raising his voice more and more cried. Marry, marry my boy, a good family, clever people, rich, yes, a nice stepmother little Nicholas will have. Write and tell him that he may marry tomorrow if he likes. She will be little Nicholas stepmother, and I will marry Murena. He mustn't be without a stepmother either. Only one thing, no more women are wanted in my house. Let him marry and live by himself. Perhaps he will go and live with him too? He added, turning to Princess Mary, go in heaven's name, go out into the frost, the frost, the frost. After his outburst, the prince did not speak any more about the matter, but he repressed a vexation at his son's poor spirit's behavior, found expression in his treatment of his daughter. To his former pretexts for irony, a fresh one was now added, allusions to stepmothers and immeabilities to Mademoiselle Burienne. Why shouldn't I marry her? He asked his daughter, she'll make a splendid princess. And laterally, to her surprise in bewilderment, Princess Mary noticed that her father was really associating more and more with the French woman. She wrote to Prince Andrew about the reception of his letter, but converted him with hopes of reconciling their father to their idea. Little Nicholas and his education, her brother Andrew, and religion were Princess Mary's joys and consolations. But besides that, since everyone must have personal hopes, Princess Mary, in the profoundest depths of her heart and a hidden dream and hope, it supplied the chief consolation of her life. This comforting dream and hope were given by her god's fork, the half-witted and other pilgrims who visited her without the prince's knowledge. The longer she lived, the more experience and observation she had of life. The greater was her wonder at the short-sightedness of men who seek enjoyment and happiness here on earth, toiling, suffering, struggling, and harming one another to obtain that impossible, visionary, sinful happiness. Prince Andrew had loved his wife. She died. But that was not enough. He wanted to bind his happiness to another woman. Her father objected to this because he wanted a more distinguished and wealthy match for Andrew. And they all struggled and suffered and tormented one another and endured their souls. They are eternal souls for the attainment of benefits which endure but for an instant. Not only do we know this ourselves, but Christ, the Son of God, came down to earth and told us that his life is but for a moment and his approbation. Yet we cling to it and think to find happiness in it. How is it that no one realizes this? thought Princess Mary. No one except these despised god's fork, wallet on back, come to me by black back door, afraid of being seen by the prince, not for fear of ill usage by him, but for fear of calling him to sin. To leave family, home, and all the cares of worldly welfare. In order without clinging to anything to wander in hempen racks from place to place under an assumed name. Do no one any harm but praying for all, for those who drive one away as well as for those who protect one? Higher than that life and truth, there is no life or truth. There was one pilgrim, a quite pockmarked little woman of fifty gold Theodosia, who for over thirty years had gone about barefoot and won heavy chains. Princess Mary was particularly fond of her. Once when in her room with a lamp dimly lit before the icon Theodosia was talking of her life. The thought that Theodosia alone had found the true path of life suddenly came to Princess Mary, with such force that she resolved to become a pilgrim herself. When Theodosia had gone to sleep, Princess Mary thought about this for a long time, and at last made up her mind that, strange that it might seem, she must go on on a pilgrimage. She disclosed this thought to no one but to her confessor, Father Akinfi, the monk, and the approval of her intention. When the guise of a present for the pilgrims, Princess Mary prepared a pilgrim's complete costume for herself, a coat smock, bash shoes, a rough coat, and a black kerchief. Often, approaching the chest of drawers containing its secret treasure, Princess Mary paused, uncertain whether time had not already come to her project into execution. Often, desing to the pilgrim's trails, she was so stimulated by this simple speech, mechanical to them but to a so full of deep meaning, that several times she was on the point of abandoning everything and running away from home. In imagination, she already pictured herself by Theodosia's side, dressed in coarse rags, walking with a staff, vault on her back along the dusty road, directing her warnings from one saint's shrine to another, free from envy, earthly love, or desire, and reaching at last the place where there is no more sorrow or sighing but eternal joy and bliss. I shall come to a place and pray there, and before having time to get used to it or getting to love it, I shall go farther. I will go on till my legs fail, and I will lie down and die somewhere, and shall at last reach that eternal quiet haven where there is neither sorrow nor sighing, thought Princess Mary. But afterwards, when she saw her father and especially little Coco, Nicholas, her resolved weekend, she wept quietly and felt that she was a sinner who loved her father a little left you more than God. End of Chapter 26, Recording by Ashwin Jain End of War and Peace, Book 6 by Leo Todstoy