does he endure it? Got used to it, you say? No; I cannot
imagine having Vera to change my linen and wash me. Of course she would
say that it's nothing to her, but for me it would be awful.

"And tell me, is he afraid to die? Does he say not? Very likely; he's a
strong man, he may be able to conquer the fear of it. Yes, yes, perhaps
he's not afraid; but still--

"You say he struggles with the feeling? Why, of course; what else can
one do?

"I wanted to go and be with him; but I thought, how can I? I shall crack
up myself, and then there will be two invalids instead of one.

"Yes, you have told me a great deal; every detail is interesting. It
is not death that's so terrible, it's illness, helplessness, and, above
all, the fear that you are a burden to others. That's awful, awful."

Uncle Seryozha died in 1904 of cancer in the face. This is what my aunt,
Maria Nikolayevna, [15] the nun, told me about his death. Almost to the
last day he was on his legs, and would not let any one nurse him. He was
in full possession of his faculties and consciously prepared for death.

Besides his own family, the aged Maria Mikhailovna and her daughters,
his sister, Maria Nikolayevna, who told me the story, was with him, too,
and from hour to hour they expected the arrival of my father, for whom
they had sent a messenger to Yasnaya. They were all troubled with the
difficult question whether the dying man would want to receive the holy
communion before he died.

Knowing Sergei Nikolayevitch's disbelief in the religion of the church,
no one dared to mention the subject to him, and the unhappy Maria
Mikhailovna hovered round his room, wringing her hands and praying.

They awaited my father's arrival impatiently, but were secretly afraid
of his influence on his brother, and hoped against hope that Sergei
Nikolayevitch would send for the priest before his arrival.

"Imagine our surprise and delight," said Maria Tolstoy, "when Lyovotchka
came out of his room and told Maria Mikhailovna that Seryozha wanted
a priest sent for. I do not know what they had been talking about, but
when Seryozha said that he wished to take the communion, Lyovotchka
answered that he was quite right, and at once came and told us what he
wanted."

My father stayed about a week at Pirogovo, and left two days before my
uncle died.

When he received a telegram to say he was worse, he drove over again,
but arrived too late; he was no longer living. He carried his