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After receiving her visitors, the countess was so tired that
she gave orders to admit no more, but the porter was told to be
sure to invite to dinner all who came "to congratulate."
The countess wished to have a tete-a-tete talk with the friend
of her childhood, Princess Anna Mikhaylovna, whom she had not
seen properly since she returned from Petersburg. Anna Mikhaylovna,
with her tear-worn but pleasant face, drew her chair nearer to
that of the countess.
"With you I will be quite frank," said Anna Mikhaylovna.
"There are not many left of us old friends! That's why I
so value your friendship."
Anna Mikhaylovna looked at Vera and paused. The countess pressed
her friend's hand.
"Vera," she said to her eldest daughter who was
evidently not a favorite, "how is it you have so little tact?
Don't you see you are not wanted here? Go to the other girls,
or..."
The handsome Vera smiled contemptuously but did not seem at
all hurt.
"If you had told me sooner, Mamma, I would have gone,"
she replied as she rose to go to her own room.
But as she passed the sitting room she noticed two couples
sitting, one pair at each window. She stopped and smiled scornfully.
Sonya was sitting close to Nicholas who was copying out some verses
for her, the first he had ever written. Boris and Natasha were
at the other window and ceased talking when Vera entered. Sonya
and Natasha looked at Vera with guilty, happy faces.
It was pleasant and touching to see these little girls in
love; but apparently the sight of them roused no pleasant feeling
in Vera.
"How often have I asked you not to take my things?"
she said. "You have a room of your own," and she took
the inkstand from Nicholas.
"In a minute, in a minute," he said, dipping his
pen.
"You always manage to do things at the wrong time,"
continued Vera. "You came rushing into the drawing room so
that everyone felt ashamed of you."
Though what she said was quite just, perhaps for that very
reason no one replied, and the four simply looked at one another.
She lingered in the room with the inkstand in her hand.
"And at your age what secrets can there be between Natasha
and Boris, or between you two? It's all nonsense!"
"Now, Vera, what does it matter to you?" said Natasha
in defense, speaking very gently.
She seemed that day to be more than ever kind and affectionate
to everyone.
"Very silly," said Vera. "I am ashamed of you.
Secrets indeed!"
"All have secrets of their own," answered Natasha,
getting warmer. "We don't interfere with you and Berg."
"I should think not," said Vera, "because there
can never be anything wrong in my behavior. But I'll just tell
Mamma how you are behaving with Boris."
"Natalya Ilynichna behaves very well to me," remarked
Boris. "I have nothing to complain of."
"Don't, Boris! You are such a diplomat that it is really
tiresome," said Natasha in a mortified voice that trembled
slightly. (She used the word "diplomat," which was just
then much in vogue among the children, in the special sense they
attached to it.) "Why does she bother me?" And she added,
turning to Vera, "You'll never understand it, because you've
never loved anyone. You have no heart! You are a Madame de Genlis
and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by Nicholas,
was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure
is to be unpleasant to people! Go and flirt with Berg as much
as you please," she finished quickly.
"I shall at any rate not run after a young man before
visitors..."
"Well, now you've done what you wanted," put in
Nicholas- "said unpleasant things to everyone and upset them.
Let's go to the nursery."
All four, like a flock of scared birds, got up and left the
room.
"The unpleasant things were said to me," remarked
Vera, "I said none to anyone."
"Madame de Genlis! Madame de Genlis!" shouted laughing
voices through the door.
The handsome Vera, who produced such an irritating and unpleasant
effect on everyone, smiled and, evidently unmoved by what had
been said to her, went to the looking glass and arranged her hair
and scarf. Looking at her own handsome face she seemed to become
still colder and calmer.
In the drawing room the conversation was still going on.
"Ah, my dear," said the countess, "my life
is not all roses either. Don't I know that at the rate we are
living our means won't last long? It's all the Club and his easygoing
nature. Even in the country do we get any rest? Theatricals, hunting,
and heaven knows what besides! But don't let's talk about me;
tell me how you managed everything. I often wonder at you, Annette-
how at your age you can rush off alone in a carriage to Moscow,
to Petersburg, to those ministers and great people, and know how
to deal with them all! It's quite astonishing. How did you get
things settled? I couldn't possibly do it."
"Ah, my love," answered Anna Mikhaylovna, "God
grant you never know what it is to be left a widow without means
and with a son you love to distraction! One learns many things
then," she added with a certain pride. "That lawsuit
taught me much. When I want to see one of those big people I write
a note: 'Princess So-and-So desires an interview with So and-So,'
and then I take a cab and go myself two, three, or four times-
till I get what I want. I don't mind what they think of me."
"Well, and to whom did you apply about Bory?" asked
the countess. "You see yours is already an officer in the
Guards, while my Nicholas is going as a cadet. There's no one
to interest himself for him. To whom did you apply?"
"To Prince Vasili. He was so kind. He at once agreed
to everything, and put the matter before the Emperor," said
Princess Anna Mikhaylovna enthusiastically, quite forgetting all
the humiliation she had endured to gain her end.
"Has Prince Vasili aged much?" asked the countess.
"I have not seen him since we acted together at the Rumyantsovs'
theatricals. I expect he has forgotten me. He paid me attentions
in those days," said the countess, with a smile.
"He is just the same as ever," replied Anna Mikhaylovna,
"overflowing with amiability. His position has not turned
his head at all. He said to me, 'I am sorry I can do so little
for you, dear Princess. I am at your command.' Yes, he is a fine
fellow and a very kind relation. But, Nataly, you know my love
for my son: I would do anything for his happiness! And my affairs
are in such a bad way that my position is now a terrible one,"
continued Anna Mikhaylovna, sadly, dropping her voice. "My
wretched lawsuit takes all I have and makes no progress. Would
you believe it, I have literally not a penny and don't know how
to equip Boris." She took out her handkerchief and began
to cry. "I need five hundred rubles, and have only one twenty-five-ruble
note. I am in such a state.... My only hope now is in Count Cyril
Vladimirovich Bezukhov. If he will not assist his godson- you
know he is Bory's godfather- and allow him something for his maintenance,
all my trouble will have been thrown away.... I shall not be able
to equip him."
The countess' eyes filled with tears and she pondered in silence.
"I often think, though, perhaps it's a sin," said
the princess, "that here lives Count Cyril Vladimirovich
Bezukhov so rich, all alone... that tremendous fortune... and
what is his life worth? It's a burden to him, and Bory's life
is only just beginning...."
"Surely he will leave something to Boris," said
the countess.
"Heaven only knows, my dear! These rich grandees are
so selfish. Still, I will take Boris and go to see him at once,
and I shall speak to him straight out. Let people think what they
will of me, it's really all the same to me when my son's fate
is at stake." The princess rose. "It's now two o'clock
and you dine at four. There will just be time."
And like a practical Petersburg lady who knows how to make
the most of time, Anna Mikhaylovna sent someone to call her son,
and went into the anteroom with him.
"Good-by, my dear," said she to the countess who
saw her to the door, and added in a whisper so that her son should
not hear, "Wish me good luck."
"Are you going to Count Cyril Vladimirovich, my dear?"
said the count coming out from the dining hall into the anteroom,
and he added: "If he is better, ask Pierre to dine with us.
He has been to the house, you know, and danced with the children.
Be sure to invite him, my dear. We will see how Taras distinguishes
himself today. He says Count Orlov never gave such a dinner as
ours will be!"
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