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At the end of January old Count Rostov went to Moscow with
Natasha and Sonya. The countess was still unwell and unable to
travel but it was impossible to wait for her recovery. Prince
Andrew was expected in Moscow any day, the trousseau had to be
ordered and the estate near Moscow had to be sold, besides which
the opportunity of presenting his future daughter-in-law to old
Prince Bolkonski while he was in Moscow could not be missed. The
Rostovs' Moscow house had not been heated that winter and, as
they had come only for a short time and the countess was not with
them, the count decided to stay with Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova,
who had long been pressing her hospitality on them.
Late one evening the Rostovs' four sleighs drove into Marya
Dmitrievna's courtyard in the old Konyusheny street. Marya Dmitrievna
lived alone. She had already married off her daughter, and her
sons were all in the service.
She held herself as erect, told everyone her opinion as candidly,
loudly, and bluntly as ever, and her whole bearing seemed a reproach
to others for any weakness, passion, or temptation- the possibility
of which she did not admit. From early in the morning, wearing
a dressing jacket, she attended to her household affairs, and
then she drove out: on holy days to church and after the service
to jails and prisons on affairs of which she never spoke to anyone.
On ordinary days, after dressing, she received petitioners of
various classes, of whom there were always some. Then she had
dinner, a substantial and appetizing meal at which there were
always three or four guests; after dinner she played a game of
boston, and at night she had the newspapers or a new book read
to her while she knitted. She rarely made an exception and went
out to pay visits, and then only to the most important persons
in the town.
She had not yet gone to bed when the Rostovs arrived and the
pulley of the hall door squeaked from the cold as it let in the
Rostovs and their servants. Marya Dmitrievna, with her spectacles
hanging down on her nose and her head flung back, stood in the
hall doorway looking with a stern, grim face at the new arrivals.
One might have thought she was angry with the travelers and would
immediately turn them out, had she not at the same time been giving
careful instructions to the servants for the accommodation of
the visitors and their belongings.
"The count's things? Bring them here," she said,
pointing to the portmanteaus and not greeting anyone. "The
young ladies'? There to the left. Now what are you dawdling for?"
she cried to the maids. "Get the samovar ready!... You've
grown plumper and prettier," she remarked, drawing Natasha
(whose cheeks were glowing from the cold) to her by the hood.
"Foo! You are cold! Now take off your things, quick!"
she shouted to the count who was going to kiss her hand. "You're
half frozen, I'm sure! Bring some rum for tea!... Bonjour, Sonya
dear!" she added, turning to Sonya and indicating by this
French greeting her slightly contemptuous though affectionate
attitude toward her.
When they came in to tea, having taken off their outdoor things
and tidied themselves up after their journey, Marya Dmitrievna
kissed them all in due order.
"I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with
me. It was high time," she said, giving Natasha a significant
look. "The old man is here and his son's expected any day.
You'll have to make his aquaintance. But we'll speak of that later
on," she added, glancing at Sonya with a look that showed
she did not want to speak of it in her presence. "Now listen,"
she said to the count. "What do you want tomorrow? Whom will
you send for? Shinshin?" she crooked one of her fingers.
"The sniveling Anna Mikhaylovna? That's two. She's here with
her son. The son is getting married! Then Bezukhov, eh? He is
here too, with his wife. He ran away from her and she came galloping
after him. He dined with me on Wednesday. As for them"- and
she pointed to the girls- "tomorrow I'll take them first
to the Iberian shrine of the Mother of God, and then we'll drive
to the Super-Rogue's. I suppose you'll have everything new. Don't
judge by me: sleeves nowadays are this size! The other day young
Princess Irina Vasilevna came to see me; she was an awful sight-
looked as if she had put two barrels on her arms. You know not
a day passes now without some new fashion.... And what have you
to do yourself?" she asked the count sternly.
"One thing has come on top of another: her rags to buy,
and now a purchaser has turned up for the Moscow estate and for
the house. If you will be so kind, I'll fix a time and go down
to the estate just for a day, and leave my lassies with you."
"All right. All right. They'll be safe with me, as safe
as in Chancery! I'll take them where they must go, scold them
a bit, and pet them a bit," said Marya Dmitrievna, touching
her goddaughter and favorite, Natasha, on the cheek with her large
hand.
Next morning Marya Dmitrievna took the young ladies to the
Iberian shrine of the Mother of God and to Madame Suppert-Roguet,
who was so afraid of Marya Dmitrievna that she always let her
have costumes at a loss merely to get rid of her. Marya Dmitrievna
ordered almost the whole trousseau. When they got home she turned
everybody out of the room except Nataisha, and then called her
pet to her armchair.
"Well, now we'll talk. I congratulate you on your betrothed.
You've hooked a fine fellow! I am glad for your sake and I've
known him since he was so high." She held her hand a couple
of feet from the ground. Natasha blushed happily. "I like
him and all his family. Now listen! You know that old Prince Nicholas
much dislikes his son's marrying. The old fellow's crotchety!
Of course Prince Andrew is not a child and can shift without him,
but it's not nice to enter a family against a father's will. One
wants to do it peacefully and lovingly. You're a clever girl and
you'll know how to manage. Be kind, and use your wits. Then all
will be well."
Natasha remained silent, from shyness Marya Dmitrievna supposed,
but really because she disliked anyone interfering in what touched
her love of Prince Andrew, which seemed to her so apart from all
human affairs that no one could understand it. She loved and knew
Prince Andrew, he loved her only, and was to come one of these
days and take her. She wanted nothing more.
"You see I have known him a long time and am also fond
of Mary, your future sister-in-law. 'Husbands' sisters bring up
blisters,' but this one wouldn't hurt a fly. She has asked me
to bring you two together. Tomorrow you'll go with your father
to see her. Be very nice and affectionate to her: you're younger
than she. When he comes, he'll find you already know his sister
and father and are liked by them. Am I right or not? Won't that
be best?"
"Yes, it will," Natasha answered reluctantly.
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