Nekhludoff told her the whole truth about his relations to Maslova.
“Yes, yes, I remember your poor mother telling me about it. That was when you were staying with those old women. I believe they wished to marry you to their ward (the Countess Katerina Ivanovna had always despised Nekhludoff’s aunts on his father’s side). So it’s she. Elle est encore jolie?”
Katerina Ivanovna was a strong, bright, energetic, talkative woman of 60. She was tall and very stout, and had a decided black moustache on her lip. Nekhludoff was fond of her and had even as a child been infected by her energy and mirth.
“No, ma tante, that’s at an end. I only wish to help her, because she is innocently accused. I am the cause of it and the cause of her fate being what it is. I feel it my duty to do all I can for her.”
“But what is this I have heard about your intention of marrying her?”
“Yes, it was my intention, but she does not wish it.”
Katerina Ivanovna looked at her nephew with raised brows and drooping eyeballs, in silent amazement. Suddenly her face changed, and with a look of pleasure she said: “Well, she is wiser than you. Dear me, you are a fool. And you would have married her?”
“Most certainly.”
“After her having been what she was?”
“All the more, since I was the cause of it.”