Nekhludoff and Nathalie

Nekhludoff's sister, Nathalie Ivanovna Rogozhinsky, was ten years older than her brother, and during his boyhood and youth they had been exceptionally close. In those earlier years, before her marriage, they shared a profound bond, united by their mutual love for Nikolenka Irtenieff, a friend of Nekhludoff's who had since died. In that friend, and in themselves, they had loved what is good and what unites all men. This shared idealism formed the bedrock of their relationship, a time when Nathalie was a young woman of twenty-five and Nekhludoff a lad of fifteen, and they were equals in their aspirations. Since then, however, both had been depraved—he by military service and a vicious life, she by her marriage to a man she loved with a sensual love, a man who did not care for the things that had once been so dear and holy to her and to her brother, nor even understand the meaning of those aspirations towards moral perfection and the service of mankind, which once constituted her life, and put them down to ambition and the wish to show off.

The Rupture Caused by Marriage

Nathalie's husband, Ignatius Rogozhinsky, was a man without name or means who had made a brilliant judicial career by cleverly steering between Liberalism and Conservatism. He was a man of vulgar feelings, assurance, and narrowness, and Nekhludoff felt a strong antipathy towards him, which he tried to hide from himself. He saw that Nathalie, in her love for this man, had stifled all the good that had been in her. It always hurt Nekhludoff to think of her as the wife of this hairy, self-assured man with the shiny, bald patch on his head, and he felt revulsion towards their children, sorrowing when he heard she was again pregnant, as if she had been infected with something bad by this man so foreign to him. The final break in their understanding came during a visit in Moscow, just before Nekhludoff's departure for Siberia. Rogozhinsky, who had come with his wife, was indignant about Nekhludoff's decision to give his land to the peasants, seeing it as the height of inconsistency, flightiness, and pride, a desire to appear original. He demanded that his wife speak seriously to her brother about his curious intention.

The Final Confrontation and Estrangement

During their conversation, Nekhludoff, in a state of quiet joy and good will from his last interview with Maslova, tried to explain his motives. He stated that he wished to reform himself, not her, and that marriage was the best means to lead him into a world where he could be of use. Nathalie, however, could not believe he would be happy, and argued that life demanded something different. The tension escalated when Rogozhinsky joined them, and a bitter dispute erupted over the nature of law and justice. Nekhludoff, provoked by his brother-in-law's self-assured, patronizing tone, argued that the law was merely an instrument for upholding the class interests of the rich, and that the entire business of the Law Courts consisted of senseless and cruel actions. Rogozhinsky, deeply offended, was reduced to tears of injured pride. Nekhludoff felt pained and ashamed of having offended his sister and her husband to such a degree, especially as he was leaving the next day. He realized that all he had said might be true, but it was not said in the right way, and he was dismayed that he could still be carried away by ill-feeling to hurt and wound poor Nathalie.

The Parting at the Station

Their final meeting at the railway station was a poignant illustration of their estrangement. Nathalie, having found her brother in the refreshment-room, was glad to see him, and he apologized for his harsh words, saying he had spoken hastily to her husband. She knew he had not meant to, and the tears came to her eyes as she touched his hand, a gesture that conveyed her deep suffering over the misunderstanding between them. Yet, when Nekhludoff told her about the two convicts who had died of sunstroke that very morning, she asked, "But why done to death? Who killed them?" revealing that she looked at this, too, with her husband's eyes. The conversation then turned to money matters, and Nekhludoff told her that if he died, her children would inherit the Kousminski land, as he had not yet given it to the peasants. He noticed she was glad to hear him say it. This short conversation about money destroyed the tender brotherly and sisterly feelings that had taken hold of them. They felt estranged, and Nathalie was glad when the train moved, so she could only say, "Good-bye, good-bye, Dmitri." As soon as the carriage passed her, she thought of how she would repeat the conversation to her husband, and her face became serious and troubled. Nekhludoff, too, felt depressed and uncomfortable with her, realizing that the Nathalie who was once so near to him no longer existed, and in her place was only a slave of that hairy, unpleasant husband who was so foreign to him.