战争与和平(上)-第29章

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　as　untidy　as　her　father　was　tidy。　She　put　down　the　geometry　exercise…book　and　impatiently　opened　the　letter。　The　letter　was　from　the　princess’s　dearest　friend　from　childhood；　this　friend　was　none　other　than　Julie　Karagin；　who　had　been　at　the　Rostovs’　name…day　party。
Julie　wrote　in　French：
“DEAR　AND　EXCELLENT　FRIEND；—What　a　terrible　and　frightful　thing　is　absence！　I　say　to　myself　that　half　of　my　existence　and　of　my　happiness　is　in　you；　that　notwithstanding　the　distance　that　separates　us；　our　hearts　are　united　by　invisible　bonds；　yet　mine　rebels　against　destiny；　and　in　spite　of　the　pleasures　and　distractions　around　me；　I　cannot　overcome　a　certain　hidden　sadness　which　I　feel　in　the　bottom　of　my　heart　since　our　separation。　Why　are　we　not　together　as　we　were　this　summer　in　your　great　study；　on　the　blue　sofa；　the　confidential　sofa？　Why　can　I　not；　as　I　did　three　months　ago；　draw　new　moral　strength　from　that　gentle；　calm；　penetrating　look　of　yours；　a　look　that　I　loved　so　well　and　that　I　seem　to　see　before　me　as　I　write　to　you。”
When　she　reached　this　passage；　Princess　Marya　sighed　and　looked　round　into　the　pier…glass　that　stood　on　her　right。　The　glass　reflected　a　feeble；　ungraceful　figure　and　a　thin　face。　The　eyes；　always　melancholy；　were　looking　just　now　with　a　particularly　hopeless　expression　at　herself　in　the　looking…glass。　She　flatters　me；　thought　the　princess；　and　she　turned　away　and　went　on　reading。　But　Julie　did　not　flatter　her　friend：　the　princess’s　eyes—large；　deep；　and　luminous　（rays　of　warm　light　seemed　at　times　to　radiate　in　streams　from　them）；　were　really　so　fine；　that　very　often　in　spite　of　the　plainness　of　the　whole　face　her　eyes　were　more　attractive　than　beauty。　But　the　princess　had　never　seen　the　beautiful　expression　of　her　eyes；　the　expression　that　came　into　them　when　she　was　not　thinking　of　herself。　As　is　the　case　with　every　one；　her　face　assumed　an　affected；　unnatural；　ugly　expression　as　soon　as　she　looked　in　the　looking…glass。
She　went　on　reading：
“All　Moscow　talks　of　nothing　but　war。　One　of　my　two　brothers　is　already　abroad；　the　other　is　with　the　Guards；　who　are　starting　on　the　march　to　the　frontier。　Our　dear　Emperor　has　left　Petersburg；　and；　people　declare；　intends　to　expose　his　precious　existence　to　the　risks　of　war。　God　grant　that　the　Corsican　monster　who　is　destroying　the　peace　of　Europe　may　be　brought　low　by　the　angel　whom　the　Almighty　in　His　mercy　has　given　us　as　sovereign。　Without　speaking　of　my　brothers；　this　war　has　deprived　me　of　one　of　my　heart’s　dearest　alliances。　I　mean　the　young　Nicholas　Rostov；　whose　enthusiasm　could　not　endure　inaction；　and　who　has　left　the　university　to　go　and　join　the　army。　Well；　dear　Marie；　I　will　own　to　you　that；　in　spite　of　his　extreme　youth；　his　departure　for　the　army　has　been　a　great　grief　to　me。　This　young　man；　of　whom　I　spoke　to　you　in　the　summer；　has　so　much　nobility；　so　much　real　youthfulness；　rarely　to　be　met　with　in　our　age；　among　our　old　men　of　twenty。　Above　all；　he　has　so　much　openness　and　so　much　heart。　He　is　so　pure　and　poetic　that　my　acquaintance　with　him；　though　so　transient；　has　been　one　of　the　dearest　joys　known　by　my　poor　heart；　which　has　already　had　so　much　suffering。　Some　day　I　will　tell　you　about　our　farewells　and　all　that　we　said　to　each　other　as　we　parted。　As　yet；　all　that　is　too　fresh。　Ah；　dear　friend；　you　are　fortunate　in　not　knowing　these　joys　and　these　pains　which　are　so　poignant。　You　are　fortunate；　because　the　latter　are　generally　stronger！　I　know　very　well　that　Count　Nicholas　is　too　young　ever　to　become　more　to　me　than　a　friend；　but　this　sweet　friendship；　this　poetic　and　pure　intimacy　have　fulfilled　a　need　of　my　heart。　No　more　of　this。　The　great　news　of　the　day；　with　which　all　Moscow　is　taken　up；　is　the　death　of　old　Count　Bezuhov；　and　his　inheritance。　Fancy；　the　three　princesses　have　hardly　got　anything；　Prince　Vassily　nothing；　and　everything　has　been　left　to　M。　Pierre；　who　has　been　acknowledged　as　a　legitimate　son　into　the　bargain；　so　that　he　is　Count　Bezuhov　and　has　the　finest　fortune　in　Russia。　People　say　that　Prince　Vassily　behaved　very　badly　in　all　these　matters　and　that　he　has　gone　back　to　Petersburg　quite　cast　down。
“I　own　that　I　understand　very　little　about　all　these　details　of　legacies　and　wills；　what　I　know　is　that　since　the　young　man　whom　we　all　used　to　know　as　plain　M。　Pierre　has　become　Count　Bezuhov　and　owner　of　one　of　the　largest　fortunes　in　Russia；　I　am　much　amused　to　observe　the　change　in　the　tone　and　the　manners　of　mammas　burdened　with　marriageable　daughters　and　of　those　young　ladies　themselves；　towards　that　individual—　who　I　may　say　in　passing　has　always　seemed　to　me　a　poor　creature。　As　people　have　amused　themselves　for　the　last　two　years　in　giving　me　husbands　whom　I　don’t　know；　the　matrimonial　gossip　of　Moscow　generally　makes　me　Countess　Bezuhov。　But　you；　I　am　sure；　feel　that　I　have　no　desire　to　become　so。　About　marriage；　by　the　by；　do　you　know　that　the　universal　aunt；　Anna　Mihalovna；　has　confided　to　me；　under　the　seal　of　the　deepest　secrecy；　a　marriage　scheme　for　you。　It　is　no　one　more　or　less　than　Prince　Vassily’s　son；　Anatole；　whom　they　want　to　settle　by　marrying　him　to　some　one　rich　and　distinguished；　and　the　choice　of　his　relations　has　fallen　on　you。　I　don’t　know　what　view　you　will　take　of　the　matter；　but　I　thought　it　my　duty　to　let　you　know　beforehand。　He　is　said　to　be　very　handsome　and　very　wild；　that　is　all　I　have　been　able　to　find　out　about　him。
“But　enough　of　gossip。　I　am　finishing　my　second　sheet　and　mamma　is　sending　for　me　to　go　and　dine　with　the　Apraxins。　Read　the　mystical　book　which　I　send　you；　and　which　is　the　rage　here。　Though　there　are　things　in　this　book；　difficult　for　our　human　conceptions　to　attain　to；　it　is　an　admirable　book；　and　reading　it　calms　and　elevates　the　soul。　Farewell。　My　respects　to　your　father　and　my　compliments　to　Mlle。　Bourienne。　I　embrace　you　as　I　love　you。
JULIE。
“P。S。—Let　me　hear　news　of　your　brother　and　his　charming　little　wife。”
Princess　Marya　thought　a　minute；　smiling　dreamily　（her　face；　lighted　up　by　her　luminous　eyes；　was　completely　transformed）。　Suddenly　getting　up；　she　crossed　over　to　the　table；　treading　heavily。　She　got　out　a　sheet　of　paper　and　her　hand　began　rapidly　moving　over　it。　She　wrote　the　following　answer：
“DEAR　AND　EXCELLENT　FRIEND；—Your　letter　of　the　13th　gave　me　great　delight。　So　you　still　love　me；　my　poetic　Julie。　So；　absence；　which　you　so　bitterly　denounce；　has　not　had　its　usual　effect　upon　you。　You　complain　of　absence—what　might　I　say；　if　I　ventured　to　complain；　I；　deprived　of　all　who　are　dear　to　me？　Ah；　if　we　had　not　religion　to　console　us；　life　would　be　very　sad。　Why　do　you　suppose　that　I　should　look　severe　when　you　tell　me　of　your　affection　for　that　young　man？　In　such　matters　I　am　hard　upon　no　one　but　myself。　I　understand　such　feelings　in　other　people；　and　if；　never　having　felt　thern；　I　cannot　express　approval；　I　do　not　condemn　them。　Only　it　seems　to　me　that　Christian　love；　the　love　of　our　neighbour；　the　love　of　our　enemies；　is　more　meritorious；　sweeter　and　more　beautiful　than　those　feelings　that　may　be　inspired　in　a　poetic　and　loving　young　girl　like　you；　by　the　fine　eyes　of　a　young　man。
“The　news　of　Count　Bezuhov’s　death　reached　us　before　your　letter；　and　affected　my　father　very　much。　He　says　that　the　count　was　the　last　representative　but　one　of　the　great　century　and　that　it　is　his　turn　now；　but　that　he　will　do　his　best　to　have　his　turn　come　as　late　as　possible。　May　God　save　us　from　that　terrible　misfortune。　I　cannot　agree　with　you　about　Pierre；　whom　I　knew　as　a　child。　He　always　appeared　to　me　to　have　an　excellent　heart；　and　that　is　the　quality　that　I　most　esteem　in　people。　As　to　his　inheritance　and　Prince　Vassily’s　behaviour　about　it；　it　is　very　sad　for　both。　Ah；　my　dear　friend；　our　divine　Saviour’s　word；　that　it　is　easier　for　a　camel　to　pass　through　the　eye　of　a　needle　than　for　a　rich　man　to　enter　into　the　kingdom　of　Heaven　is　a　terribly　true　saying；　I　pity　Prince　Vassily；　and　I　am　yet　more　sorry　for　Pierre。　So　young　and　burdened　with　this　wealth；　to　what　temptations　he　will　be　exposed！　If　I　were　asked　what　I　wished　most　in　the　world；　it　would　be　to　be　poorer　than　the　poorest　beggar。　A　thousand　thanks；　dear　friend；　for　the　work　you　send