up her mind that, strange as it might seem, she must go on a pilgrimage. She disclosed this thought to no one but to her confessor, Father Akínfi, the monk, and he approved of her intention. Under guise of a present for the pilgrims, Princess Márya prepared a pilgrim’s complete costume for herself: * a coarse smock, * bast shoes, * a rough coat, and * a black kerchief. Often, approaching the chest of drawers containing this secret treasure, Princess Márya paused, uncertain whether the time had not already come to put
Often, listening to the pilgrims’ tales, she was so stimulated by their simple speech, mechanical to them but to her so full of deep meaning, that several times she was on the point of abandoning everything and running away from home.
In imagination she already pictured herself by Fëdosyushka’s side, dressed in coarse rags, walking with a staff, a wallet on her back, along the dusty road, directing her wanderings from one saint’s shrine to another, free from envy, earthly love, or desire, and reaching at last the place where there is no more sorrow or sighing, but eternal joy and bliss.
“I shall come to a place and pray there, and before having time to get used to it or getting to love it, I shall go farther. I will go on till my legs fail, and I’ll lie down and die somewhere, and shall at last reach that eternal, quiet haven, where there is neither sorrow nor sighing …” thought Princess Márya.
But afterwards, when she saw her father and especially little Koko (Nikolúshka), her resolve weakened. She wept quietly, and felt that she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God.