Chapter 6

           

           ItwaslongsincetheRostóvshadnewsofNicholas.Nottillmidwinterwasthecountatlasthandedaletteraddressedinhisson’shandwriting.Onreceivingit,heranontiptoetohisstudyinalarmandhaste,tryingtoescapenotice,closedthedoor,andbegantoreadtheletter.

           AnnaMikháylovna,whoalwayskneweverythingthatpassedinthehouse,onhearingofthearrivaloftheletterwentsoftlyintotheroomandfoundthecountwithitinhishand,sobbingandlaughingatthesametime.

           AnnaMikháylovna,thoughhercircumstanceshadimproved,wasstilllivingwiththeRostóvs.

           “Mydearfriend?”saidshe,inatoneofpatheticinquiry,preparedtosympathizeinanyway.

           Thecountsobbedyetmore.

           “Nikólenka...aletter...wa...a...s...wounded...mydarlingboy...thecountess...promotedtobeanofficer...thankGod...Howtellthelittlecountess!”

           AnnaMikháylovnasatdownbesidehim,withherownhandkerchiefwipedthetearsfromhiseyesandfromtheletter,thenhavingdriedherowneyesshecomfortedthecount,anddecidedthatatdinnerandtillteatimeshewouldpreparethecountess,andaftertea,withGod’shelp,wouldinformher.

           AtdinnerAnnaMikháylovnatalkedthewholetimeaboutthewarnewsandaboutNikólenka,twiceaskedwhenthelastletterhadbeenreceivedfromhim,thoughsheknewthatalready,andremarkedthattheymightverylikelybegettingaletterfromhimthatday.

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