The last days of her stay in Vorónezh had been the happiest of her life. Her love for Rostóv no longer tormented or agitated her. It filled her whole soul, had become an integral part of herself, and she no longer struggled against it. Latterly she had become convinced that she loved and was beloved, though she never said this definitely to herself in words. She had become convinced of it at her last interview with Nikoláy, when he had come to tell her that her brother was with the Rostóvs. Not by a single word had Nikoláy alluded to the fact that Prince Andréy’s relations with Natásha might, if he recovered, be renewed, but Princess Márya saw by his face that he knew and thought of this.

Yet in spite of that, his relation to her⁠—considerate, delicate, and loving⁠—not only remained unchanged, but it sometimes seemed to Princess Márya that he was even glad that the family connection between them allowed him to express his friendship more freely. She knew that she loved for the first and only time in her life and felt that she was beloved, and was happy in regard to it.