noble action on his part!" he added, seeing that Vronsky was not in the carriage.
"Well! What could he do after his misfortune?"
"What a horrible thing it was!" said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.
"Akh! What have I not been through!—Yes, do come in.—Akh! What have I not been through!" she repeated, as Sergyeï Ivanovitch came in and sat down on the seat beside her. "You could not imagine it. For six weeks he never said a word to any one, and he only ate when I begged him to do so. We dared not leave him alone a single instant; we took away everything which he might kill himself with. We lived on the first floor, but we had to be on the watch all the same. You know he shot himself once before, for her sake," said the old countess, her face clouding at this remembrance; "yes, she died as was fit for such a woman to die. Even the death she chose was low and wretched."
"It is not for us to judge her, countess," replied Sergyeï Ivanovitch, with a sigh. "But I can imagine what you have suffered."
"Akh! Don't speak of it! My son was with me at my country place. A note was brought him. He answered immediately. We did not know at all that she was at the station. That evening I had just gone to my room, and my Mary told me that a lady had thrown herself under the train. I felt something like a shock. I understood instantly what had happened; I knew it was she. My first words were, 'Let no one tell the count.' But they had just told him. His coachman was at the station when it happened, and saw it all. I ran to my son's room. He was beside himself; it was terrible to see him. Without speaking one word, he left the house; and what he found, I do not know; but they brought him back like one dead. I should never have known him. ' Prostration complète,' the doctor said.
Then he became almost insane. .... Akh! What can be said?" cried the countess, waving her hands. "It was a terrible time. No; let people say what they will,
