Some time before this, Konstantin Levin had written his brother that, having disposed of the small portion of their common inheritance, consisting of personal property, a sum of two thousand rubles was due as his share.
Nikolaï said that he had come to get this money, and especially to see the old nest; to put his foot on the natal soil, so as to get renewed strength, like the heroes of ancient times. Notwithstanding his tall stooping form, notwithstanding his frightful emaciation, his movements were, as they had always been, quick and impetuous. Levin took him to his room.
Nikolaï changed his dress, and took great pains with his toilet, which in former times he neglected. He brushed his thin shaven hair, and went up-stairs smiling.
He was in the gayest and happiest humor, just as Konstantin had seen him when he was a child. He even spoke of Sergyeï Ivanovitch without bitterness. When he saw Agafya Mikhaïlovna, he jested with her, and questioned her about the old servants. The news of the death of Parfen Denisuitch made a deep impression on him. A look of fear crossed his face, but he instantly recovered himself.
"He was very old, was he not?" he asked, and quickly changed the conversation. "Yes, I am going to stay a month or two with you, and then go back to Moscow. You see, Miagkof has promised me a place, and I shall enter the service. Now I have turned over a new leaf entirely," he added. "You see, I have sent away that woman."
"Marya Nikolayevna? How? What for?"
"Ah! she was a wretched woman! She caused a heap of tribulations."
But he did not tell what the tribulations were. He could not confess that he had sent Marya Nikolayevna away because she made his tea too weak, still less because she insisted on treating him as an invalid.
"Then, besides, I wanted to begin an entirely new kind of life. Of course, I, like everybody else, have committed follies; but the present,—I mean the last
