to depart, and on dismissing them wrote a letter to
Petersburg for the guidance of the deputation. He had his chief
support in this affair in the Countess Lidia Ivanovna. She was a
specialist in the matter of deputations, and no one knew better
than she how to manage them, and put them in the way they should
go. Having completed this task, Alexey Alexandrovitch wrote the
letter to the lawyer. Without the slightest hesitation he gave
him permission to act as he might judge best. In the letter he
enclosed three of Vronsky's notes to Anna, which were in the
portfolio he had taken away.

Since Alexey Alexandrovitch had left home with the intention of
not returning to his family again, and since he had been at the
lawyer's and had spoken, though only to one man, of his
intention, since especially he had translated the matter from the
world of real life to the world of ink and paper, he had grown
more and more used to his own intention, and by now distinctly
perceived the feasibility of its execution.

He was sealing the envelope to the lawyer, when he heard the loud
tones of Stepan Arkadyevitch's voice. Stepan Arkadyevitch was
disputing with Alexey Alexandrovitch's servant, and insisting on
being announced.

"No matter," thought Alexey Alexandrovitch, "so much the better.
I will inform him at once of my position in regard to his
sister, and explain why it is I can't dine with him."

"Come in!" he said aloud, collecting his papers, and putting them
in the blotting-paper.

"There, you see, you're talking nonsense, and he's at home!"
responded Stepan Arkadyevitch's voice, addressing the servant,
who had refused to let him in, and taking off his coat as he
went, Oblonsky walked into the room. "Well, I'm awfully glad
I've found you! So I hope..." Stepan Arkadyevitch began
cheerfully.

"I cannot come," Alexey Alexandrovitch said coldly, standing and
not asking his visitor to sit down.

Alexey Alexandrovitch had thought to pass at once into those
frigid relations in which he ought to stand with the brother of a
wife against whom he was beginning a suit for divorce. But he
had not taken into account the ocean of kindliness brimming over
in the heart of Stepan Arkadyevitch.

Stepan Arkadyevitch opened wide his clear, shining eyes.

"Why can't you? What do you mean?" he asked in perplexity,
speaking in French. "Oh, but it's a promise. And we're all
counting on you."

"I want to tell you that I can't dine at