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a dejected tone； as though she were saying； “Very well； finish me off entirely！”
A tall； stout； haughty…looking lady and her round…faced； smiling daughter walked with rustling skirts into the drawing…room。
“Dear countess； it is such a long time…she has been laid up； poor child…at the Razumovskys’ ball； and the Countess Apraxin…I was so glad；” feminine voices chattered briskly； interrupting one another and mingling with the sound of rustling skirts and the scraping of chairs。 Conversation began of the sort which is kept up just long enough for the caller to get up at the first pause； rustling her skirts and with a murmur of “I am so charmed； mamma’s health…and the Countess Apraxin…” walk out again with the same rustle to the hall to put on cloak or overcoat and drive away。 The conversation touched on the chief items of news in the town； on the illness of the wealthy old Count Bezuhov； a man who had been renowned for his personal beauty in the days of Catherine； and on his illegitimate son； Pierre； who had behaved so improperly at a soirée at Anna Pavlovna’s。 “I am very sorry for the poor count；” declared the visitor； “his health in such a precarious state； and now this distress caused him by his son； it will be the death of him！”
“Why； what has happened？” asked the countess； as though she did not know what was meant； though she had heard about the cause of Count Bezuhov’s distress fifteen times already。
“This is what comes of modern education！ When he was abroad；” the visitor pursued； “this young man was left to his own devices； and now in Petersburg； they say； he has been doing such atrocious things that he has been sent away under police escort。”
“Really！” said the countess。
“He has made a bad choice of his companions；” put in Princess Anna Mihalovna。 “Prince Vassily’s son—he and a young man called Dolohov； they say—God only knows the dreadful things they’ve been doing。 And both have suffered for it。 Dolohov has been degraded to the rank of a common soldier； while Bezuhov’s son has been banished to Moscow。 As to Anatole Kuragin…his father managed to hush it up somehow。 But he has been sent out of Petersburg too。”
“Why； what did they do？” asked the countess。
“They’re perfect ruffians； especially Dolohov；” said the visitor。 “He’s the son of Marya Ivanovna Dolohov； such a worthy woman； you know； but there！ Only fancy； the three of them had got hold of a bear somewhere； put it in a carriage with them； and were taking it to some actress’s。 The police ran up to stop them。 They took the police officer； tied him back to back to the bear； and dropped the bear into the Moika： the bear swam with the police officer on him。”
“A pretty figure he must have looked； ma chère；” cried the count； helpless with laughter。
“Ah； such a horror！ What is there to laugh at in it； count？”
But the ladies could not help laughing at it themselves。
“It was all they could do to rescue the unlucky man；” the visitor went on。 “And that’s the intellectual sort of amusement the son of Count Kirill Vladimirovitch Bezuhov indulges in！” she added。 “And people said he was so well educated and clever。 That’s how foreign education turns out。 I hope no one will receive him here； in spite of his great wealth。 They tried to introduce him to me。 I gave an absolute refusal： I have daughters。”
“What makes you say the young man is so wealthy？” asked the countess； turning away from the girls； who at once looked as though they did not hear。 “He has none but illegitimate children。 I believe that…Pierre too is illegitimate。”
The visitor waved her hand。 “He has a score of them； I suppose。”
Princess Anna Mihalovna interposed； obviously wishing to show her connections and intimate knowledge with every detail in society。
“This is how the matter stands；” she said meaningly； speaking in a half whisper。 “Count Kirill Vladimirovitch’s reputation we all know。…He has lost count of his own children； indeed； but this Pierre was his favourite。”
“How handsome the old man was；” said the countess； “only last year！ A finer…looking man I have never seen。”
“Now he’s very much altered；” said Anna Mihalovna。 “Well； I was just saying；” she went on； “the direct heir to all the property is Prince Vassily through his wife； but the father is very fond of Pierre； has taken trouble over his education； and he has written to the Emperor…so that no one can tell； if he dies （he’s so ill that it’s expected any moment； and Lorrain has come from Petersburg）； whom that immense property will come to； Pierre or Prince Vassily。 Forty thousand serfs and millions of money。 I know this for a fact； for Prince Vassily himself told me so。 And indeed Kirill Vladimirovitch happens to be a third cousin of mine on my mother’s side； and he’s Boris’s godfather too；” she added； apparently attaching no importance to this circumstance。
“Prince Vassily arrived in Moscow yesterday。 He’s coming on some inspection business； so I was told；” said the visitor。
“Yes； between ourselves；” said the princess； “that’s a pretext； he has come simply to see Prince Kirill Vladimirovitch； hearing he was in such a serious state。”
“But； really； ma chère； that was a capital piece of fun；” said the count； and seeing that the elder visitor did not hear him； he turned to the young ladies。 “A funny figure the police officer must have looked； I can just fancy him。”
And showing how the police officer waved his arms about； he went off again into his rich bass laugh； his sides shaking with mirth； as people do laugh who always eat and； still more； drink well。 “Then do； please； come to dinner with us；” he said。
Chapter 8
A SILENCE followed。 The countess looked at her guest； smiling affably； but still not disguising the fact that she would not take it at all amiss now if the guest were to get up and go。 The daughter was already fingering at the folds of her gown and looking interrogatively at her mother； when suddenly they heard in the next room several girls and boys running to the door； and the grating sound of a chair knocked over and a girl of thirteen ran in； hiding something in her short muslin petticoat； and stopped short in the middle of the room。 She had evidently bounded so far by mistake； unable to stop in her flight。 At the same instant there appeared in the doorway a student with a crimson band on his collar； a young officer in the Guards； a girl of fifteen； and a fat； rosy…cheeked boy in a child’s smock。
The prince jumped up； and swaying from side to side； held his arms out wide round the little girl。
“Ah； here she is！” he cried； laughing。 “Our little darling on her fête day！”
“My dear； there is a time for everything；” said the countess； affecting severity。 “You’re always spoiling her； Elie；” she added to her husband。
“Bonjour； ma chère； je vous félicite；” said the visitor。 “Quelle délicieuse enfant！” she added； turning to her mother。
The dark…eyed little girl； plain； but full of life； with her wide mouth； her childish bare shoulders； which shrugged and panted in her bodice from her rapid motion； her black hair brushed back； her slender bare arms and little legs in lace…edged long drawers and open slippers； was at that charming stage when the girl is no longer a child； while the child is not yet a young girl。 Wriggling away from her father； she ran up to her mother； and taking no notice whatever of her severe remarks； she hid her flushed face in her mother’s lace kerchief and broke into laughter。 As she laughed she uttered some incoherent phrases about the doll； which was poking out from her petticoat。
“Do you see？…My doll…Mimi…you see…” And Natasha could say no more； it all seemed to her so funny。 She sank on her mother’s lap； and went off into such a loud peal of laughter that every one； even the prim visitor； could not help laughing too。
“Come； run along； run along with your monstrosity！” said her mother； pushing her daughter off with a pretence of anger。 “This is my younger girl；” she said to the visitor。 Natasha； pulling her face away from her mother’s lace kerchief for a minute； peeped down at her through tears of laughter； and hid her face again。
The visitor； forced to admire this domestic scene； thought it suitable to take some part in it。
“Tell me； my dear；” she said； addressing Natasha； “how did you come by your Mimi？ Your daughter； I suppose？”
Natasha did not like the tone of condescension to childish things with which the visitor had spoken to her。 She made no answer； but stared solemnly at her。
Meanwhile all the younger generation； Boris； the officer； Anna Milhalovna’s son； Nikolay； the student； the count’s elder son； Sonya； the count’s niece； and little Petya； his younger son； had all placed themselves about the drawing…room； and were obviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum the excitement and mirth which was brimming over in their faces。 Clearly in the back part of the house； from which they had dashed out so impetuously； the conversation had been more amusing than the small…talk in the drawing…room of the scandal of the town； the weather； and Countess Apraxin。 Now and then they glanced at one another and could hardly suppress their laughter。
The two young men； the student and the officer； friends from childhood； were of the same age； and both good…looking； but not like each other。 Boris was a tall； fair…haired lad with delicate； regular features； and a look of composure on his handsome face。 Nikolay was a curly…headed youth； not tall； with an open expression。 On his upper lip there were already signs of a black moustache coming； and his whole face expressed impulsiveness and enthusiasm。 Nikolay flushed red as he came into the drawing…room。 He was unmistakably trying to find something to say； and unable to find anything。 Boris； on the contrary； was at home immediately and talked easily and playfully of the doll Mimi； saying that he had known her as a young girl before her nose was broken； and she had grown older during the five years he remembered her； and how her head was cracked right across the skull。 As he said this he looked at Natasha。 Natasha turned away from him； glanced at her younger brother； who； with a scowl on his face； was shaking with noiseless laughter； and unable to restrain herself； she skipped up and flew out of the room as quickly as her swift little legs could carry her。 Boris did not laugh。
“You were meaning to go out； mamma； weren’t you？ Do you want the carriage？” he said； addressing his mother with a smile。
“Yes； go along and tell them to get it ready；” she said； smiling。 Boris walked slowly to the door and went after Natasha。 The stout boy ran wrathfully after them； as though resenting the interruption of his pursuits。
Chapter 9
OF THE YOUNG PEOPLE； not reckoning the countess’s elder daughter （who was four years older than her sister and behaved quite like a grown…up person） and the young lady visitor； there were left in the drawing…room Nikolay and Sonya； the niece。 Sonya was a slender； miniature brunette； with soft eyes shaded by long lashes； thick black hair twisted in two coils round her head； and a skin of a somewhat sallow tint； particularly marked on her bare； thin； but shapely； muscular arms and neck。 The smoothness of her movements； the softness and flexibility of her little limbs； and something of slyness and reserve in her manner； suggested a lovely half…grown kitten； which would one day be a charming cat。 Apparently she thought it only proper to show an interest in the general conversation and to smile。 But against her own will； her eyes turned under their thick； long lashes to her cousin； who was going away into the army； with such girlish； passionate adoration； that her smile could not for one moment impose upon any one； and it was clear that the kitten had only perched there to skip off more energetically than ever and to play with her cousin as soon as they could； like Boris and Natasha； get out of the drawing…room。
“Yes； ma chère；” said the old count； addressing the visitor and pointing to his Nikolay； “here his friend Boris has received his commission as an officer； and he’s so fond of him he doesn’t want to be left behind； and is giving up the university and his poor old father to go into the army；