战争与和平(上)-第193章

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“You　know　I　adore　little　girls；”　said　Anatole；　“they’re　all　confusion　in　a　minute。”
“You’ve　come　to　grief　once　already　over　a　‘little　girl；’　”　said　Dolohov；　who　knew　of　Anatole’s　marriage。　“Beware。”
“Well；　one　can’t　do　it　twice！　Eh？”　said　Anatole；　laughing　good…humouredly。


Chapter　12
THE　NEXT　DAY　the　Rostovs　did　not　go　anywhere；　and　no　one　came　to　see　them。　Marya　Dmitryevna　had　a　discussion　with　Natasha’s　father；　which　she　kept　secret　from　her。　Natasha　guessed　they　were　talking　of　the　old　prince　and　making　some　plan；　and　she　felt　worried　and　humiliated　by　it。　Every　minute　she　expected　Prince　Andrey；　and　twice　that　day　she　sent　a　man　to　Vosdvizhenka　to　inquire　whether　he　had　not　arrived。　He　had　not　arrived。　She　felt　more　dreary　now　than　during　the　first　days　in　Moscow。　To　her　impatience　and　pining　for　him　there　were　now　added　the　unpleasant　recollections　of　her　interview　with　Princess　Marya　and　the　old　prince；　and　a　vague　dread　and　restlessness；　of　which　she　did　not　know　the　cause。　She　was　continually　fancying　either　that　he　would　never　come　or　that　something　would　happen　to　her　before　he　came。　She　could　not　brood　calmly　for　long　hours　over　his　image　by　herself　as　she　had　done　before。　As　soon　as　she　began　to　think　of　him；　her　memory　of　him　was　mingled　with　the　recollection　of　the　old　prince　and　Princess　Marya；　and　of　the　theatre　and　of　Kuragin。　Again　the　question　presented　itself　whether　she　had　not　been　to　blame；　whether　she　had　not　broken　her　faith　to　Prince　Andrey；　and　again　she　found　herself　going　over　in　the　minutest　detail　every　word；　every　gesture；　every　shade　in　the　play　of　expression　on　the　face　of　that　man；　who　had　known　how　to　awaken　in　her　a　terrible　feeling　that　was　beyond　her　comprehension。　In　the　eyes　of　those　about　her；　Natasha　seemed　livelier　than　usual；　but　she　was　far　from　being　as　serene　and　happy　as　before。
On　Sunday　morning　Marya　Dmitryevna　invited　her　guests　to　go　to　Mass　to　her　parish　church　of　Uspenya　on　Mogiltse。
“I　don’t　like　those　fashionable　churches；”　she　said；　obviously　priding　herself　on　her　independence　of　thought。　“God　is　the　same　everywhere。　Our　parish　priest　is　an　excellent　man；　and　conducts　the　service　in　a　suitable　way；　so　that　is　all　as　it　should　be；　and　his　deacon　too。　Is　there　something　holier　about　it　when　there　are　concerts　in　the　choir？　I　don’t　like　it；　it’s　simply　self…indulgence！”
Marya　Dmitryevna　liked　Sundays；　and　knew　how　to　keep　them　as　holidays。　Her　house　was　always　all　scrubbed　out　and　cleaned　on　Saturday；　neither　she　nor　her　servants　did　any　work；　and　every　one　wore　holiday…dress　and　went　to　service。　There　were　additional　dishes　at　the　mistress’s　dinner；　and　the　servants　had　vodka　and　roast　goose　or　a　suckling…pig　at　theirs。　But　in　nothing　in　the　whole　house　was　the　holiday　so　marked　as　in　the　broad；　severe　face　of　Marya　Dmitryevna；　which　on　that　day　wore　a　never…varying　expression　of　solemnity。
When　after　service　they　were　drinking　coffee　in　the　drawing…room；　where　the　covers　had　been　removed　from　the　furniture；　the　servant　announced　that　the　carriage　was　ready；　and　Marya　Dmitryevna；　dressed　in　her　best　shawl　in　which　she　paid　calls；　rose　with　a　stern　air；　and　announced　that　she　was　going　to　call　on　Prince　Nikolay　Andreitch　Bolkonsky　to　ask　for　an　explanation　of　his　conduct　about　Natasha。　After　Marya　Dmitryevna　had　gone；　a　dressmaker　waited　upon　the　Rostovs　from　Madame　Chalmey；　and　Natasha；　very　glad　of　a　diversion；　went　into　a　room　adjoining　the　drawing…room；　and　shutting　the　door　between；　began　trying　on　her　new　dresses。　Just　as　she　had　put　on　a　bodice　basted　together；　with　the　sleeves　not　yet　tacked　in；　and　was　turning　her　head　to　look　at　the　fit　of　the　back　in　the　looking…glass；　she　caught　the　sound　of　her　father’s　voice　in　the　drawing…room　in　eager　conversation　with　another　voice；　a　woman’s　voice；　which　made　her　flush　red。　It　was　the　voice　of　Ellen。　Before　Natasha　had　time　to　take　off　the　bodice　she　was　trying　on；　the　door　opened；　and　Countess　Bezuhov　walked　into　the　room；　wearing　a　dark　heliotrope　velvet　gown　with　a　high　collar；　and　beaming　with　a　good…natured　and　friendly　smile。
“O　my　enchantress！”　she　said　to　the　blushing　Natasha。　“Charming！　No；　this　is　really　beyond　anything；　count；”　she　said　to　Count　Ilya　Andreitch；　who　had　followed　her　in。　“How　can　you　be　in　Moscow；　and　go　nowhere？　No；　I　won’t　let　you　off！　This　evening　we　have　Mademoiselle　George　giving　a　recitation；　and　a　few　people　are　coming；　and　if　you　don’t　bring　your　lovely　girls；　who　are　much　prettier　than　Mademoiselle　George；　I　give　up　knowing　you！　My　husband’s　not　here；　he　has　gone　away　to　Tver；　or　I　should　have　sent　him　for　you。　You　must　come；　you　positively　must；　before　nine　o’clock。”
She　nodded　to　the　dressmaker；　who　knew　her；　and　was　curtseying　respectfully；　and　seated　herself　in　a　low　chair　beside　the　looking…glass；　draping　the　folds　of　her　velvet　gown　picturesquely　about　her。　She　kept　up　a　flow　of　good…humoured　and　light…hearted　chatter；　and　repeatedly　expressed　her　enthusiastic　admiration　of　Natasha’s　beauty。　She　looked　through　her　dresses　and　admired　them；　spoke　with　admiration；　too；　of　a　new　dress　of　her　own　“of　metallic　gas；”　which　she　had　received　from　Paris；　and　advised　Natasha　to　have　one　like　it。
“But　anything　suits　you；　my　charmer！”　she　declared。　The　smile　of　pleasure　never　left　Natasha’s　face。　She　felt　happy；　and　as　it　were　blossoming　out　under　the　praises　of　this　charming　Countess　Bezuhov；　who　had　seemed　to　her　before　a　lady　so　unapproachable　and　dignified；　and　was　now　being　so　king　to　her。　Natasha’s　spirits　rose；　and　she　felt　almost　in　love　with　this　handsome　and　good…natured　woman。　Ellen；　for　her　part；　was　genuine　in　her　admiration　of　Natasha；　and　in　her　desire　to　make　her　enjoy　herself。　Anatole　had　begged　her　to　throw　him　with　Natasha；　and　it　was　with　that　object　she　had　come　to　the　Rostovs’。　The　idea　of　throwing　her　brother　and　Natasha　together　amused　her。
Although　Ellen　had　once　owed　Natasha　a　grudge　for　carrying　off　Boris　from　her　in　Petersburg；　she　thought　no　more　of　that　now；　and　with　all　her　heart　wished　Natasha　nothing　but　good。　As　she　was　leaving　the　Rostovs’；　she　drew　her　protégée　aside。
“My　brother　was　dining　with　me　yesterday—we　half　died　with　laughing　at　him—he　won’t　eat；　and　does　nothing　but　sigh　for　you；　my　charmer！　He　is　madly；　madly　in　love　with　you；　my　dear。”
Natasha　flushed　crimson　on　hearing　those　words。
“How　she　blushes；　how　she　blushes；　my　pretty！”　Ellen　went　on。　“You　must　be　sure　to　come。　If　you　do　love　some　one；　it　is　not　a　reason　to　cloister　yourself。　Even　if　you　are　betrothed；　I　am　sure　your　betrothed　would　have　preferred　you　to　go　into　society　rather　than　to　languish　in　ennui。”
“So　then　she　knows　I　am　engaged。　So　then　they　with　her　husband；　with　Pierre；　with　that　good　Pierre；　talked　and　laughed　about　it。　So　that　it　means　nothing。”
And　again　under　Ellen’s　influence　what　had　struck　her　before　as　terrible　seemed　to　her　simple　and　natural。　“And　she；　such　a　grande　dame；　is　so　kind；　and　obviously　she　likes　me　with　all　her　heart；”　thought　Natasha。　“And　why　not　enjoy　myself；”　thought　Natasha；　gazing　at　Ellen　with　wide…open；　wondering　eyes。
Marya　Dmitryevna　came　back　to　dinner　silent　and　serious；　having　evidently　been　defeated　by　the　old　prince。　She　was　too　much　agitated　by　the　conflict　she　had　been　through　to　be　able　to　describe　the　interview。　To　the　count’s　inquiries；　she　replied　that　everything　had　been　all　right　and　she　would　tell　him　about　it　next　day。　On　hearing　of　the　visit　of　Countess　Bezuhov　and　the　invitation　for　the　evening；　Marya　Dmitryevna　said：
“I　don’t　care　to　associate　with　Countess　Bezuhov　and　I　don’t　advise　you　to；　but　still；　since　you　have　promised；　better　go。　It　will　divert　your　mind；”　she　added；　addressing　Natasha。


Chapter　13
COUNT　ILYA　ANDREITCH　took　his　two　girls　to　the　Countess　Bezuhov’s。　There　were　a　good　many　people　assembled　there。　But　Natasha　hardly　knew　any　of　the　persons　present。　Count　Ilya　Andreitch　observed　with　dissatisfaction　that　almost　all　the　company　consisted　of　men　or　of　ladies　notorious　for　the　freedom　of　their　behaviour。　Mademoiselle　George　was　standing　in　one　corner　of　the　room；　surrounded　by　young　men。　There　were　several　Frenchmen　presen