 War and Peace, Book 7, Chapter 10, red for LibriVox.org, by Elena. CHAPTER 10 Does it ever happen to you, said Natasha to her brother when they settled down in the sitting room? Does it ever happen to you to feel as if there was nothing more to come? That everything good is past, and to feel not exactly dull, but sad. I should think so, he replied, I have felt like that when everything was all right and everyone was cheerful, the thought has come into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we must all die. Once in the regiment, I had not gone to some merry-making where there was music, and suddenly I felt so depressed. Oh yes, I know, I know, I know Natasha interrupted him. When I was quite little, that used to be so with me. Do you remember when I was punished about some plums? You were all dancing and I sat sobbing in the schoolroom. I shall never forget it. I felt sad and sorry for everyone, for myself and for everyone, and I was innocent. That was the chief thing. Do you remember? I remember, answered Nicholas, I remember that I came to you afterwards and wanted to comfort you, but you know, I felt ashamed too. We were terribly absurd. I had a funny dull then, I wanted to give it to you. Do you remember? And do you remember, Natasha asked with a pensive smile, how once, long, long ago, when we were quite little, Uncle called us into the study. That was in the old house, and it was dark, and we went in, and suddenly there stood a negro, chimed in Nicholas with a smile of delight. Of course I remember. Even now I don't know whether it really was a negro, or if we only dreamt it, or were told about him. He was grey, you remember, and had white teeth, and stood and looked at us. Sonja, do you remember, asked Nicholas? Yes, yes, I do remember something too. Sonja answered timidly. You know I have asked Papa and Mama about that negro, said Natasha, and they said there was no negro at all. But you see, you remember. Of course I do. I remember his teeth as if I'd just seen them. How strange is that? It was if it were like a dream. I like that. And do you remember how we rolled hard-boiled eggs in the ballroom, and suddenly two old women began spinning around on the carpet? Was that real or not? Do you remember what fun it was? Yes, and you remember how Papa and his blue overcoat fired a gun into the porch. And so they went through their memories, smiling with pleasure. Not the sad memories of old age, but poetic youthful ones. The impressions of one's most distant past, in which dreams and realities blend, and they laughed with quiet enjoyment. Sonja, as always, did not quite keep pace with them, though they shared the same reminiscences. Much that they remembered had slipped from her mind, and what she recalled did not arouse the same poetic feeling as they experienced. She simply enjoyed their pleasure and tried to feel in with it. She only really took part when they recalled Sonja's first arrival. She told them how afraid she'd been of Nicholas because he had on a quarter jacket, and her nurse had told her that she, too, would be sewn up with cords. And remember they're telling me that you had been born under a cabbage, she said, Natasha, and I remember that I did not disbelieve it then, but I knew it not to be true, and I felt so uncomfortable. When they were talking, a maid thrust her head in the other door of the sitting-room. They have brought the cock-miss, she said in a whisper. It isn't wanted, Petra. Tell them to take it away, replied Natasha. In the middle of their talk in the sitting-room, Dimler came in and went up to the harp that stood in the corner. He took off its cloth covering, and the harp gave out a jarring sound. Mr. Dimler, please play my favourite nocturne by field, came the old countess as away from the drum-room. Dimler struck a chord, and turning to Natasha, Nicholas, and Sonja, remarked, How quiet you young people are. Yes, we're philosophising, said Natasha, glancing around for a moment, and then continuing the conversation, they were now discussing dreams. Dimler began to play. Natasha went on tip-toe noiselessly to the table, took up a candle, carried it and returned, seating herself quietly in her former place. It was dark in the room, especially where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows, the silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor. Dimler had finished the piece, but still sat softly, running his fingers over the strings, evidently uncertain whether to stop or to play something else. Did you know, said Natasha in a whisper, moving close to Nicholas and Sonja, that when one goes on and on recalling memories, one at last begins to remember what happened before one was in the world. That's Metempsychosis, said Sonja, who had always been learned well, and remembered everything. The Egyptians believed that our souls have lived in animals, and will go back into animals again. No, I don't believe we're ever wearing animals, said Natasha, still in a whisper, though the music had ceased. But I am certain that we were angels somewhere there, and have been here, and that's why we remember. May I join you, said Dimler, who had come up quietly, and he sat down by them. If we have been angels, why have we fallen lower, said Nicholas? No, that can't be. Not lower. Who said we were lower? How do I know what I was before? Natasha rejoined with conviction. The soul is immortal. Well then, if I shall always live, I must have lived before, lived for a whole eternity. Yes, but it is hard for us to imagine eternity, remarked Dimler, who rejoined the young folk with a mildly condescending smile, but now spoke as quietly and as seriously as they. Why is it hard to imagine eternity, said Natasha? It is now, today, and it will be tomorrow, and always. And there was yesterday, and the day before. Natasha, now it's your turn. Sing me something, they heard the countess say. Why are you sitting there like conspirators? Mama, I don't want to, but all the same she rose. None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimler, wanted to break off their conversation and quit that quiet corner of the sitting room. But Natasha got up, and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord, standing as usual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where the resonance was best. Natasha began to sing her mother's favourite song. She had said she did not want to sing, but it was long since she had sung, and long before she again sang, as she did that evening. The count, from his study where he was talking to Michenka, heard her and, like a schoolboy in a hurry to run out to play, blundered in his talk while giving orders to the steward, and at last stopped while Michenka stood in front of him also listening and smiling. Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath in time with her. Sonia, as she listened, thought of the immense difference there was between herself and her friend, and how impossible it was for her to be anything like as bewitching as her cousin. The old countess sat with a blissful, yet sad smile, and with tears in her eyes, and occasionally shaking her head. She thought of Natasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnatural and dreadful about this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew. Dimla, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened with closed eyes. Ah, countess, he said at last. That's a European talent. She has nothing to learn. What softness, tenderness, and strength. Ah, how afraid I am for her. How afraid I am, said the countess, not really realising to whom she was speaking. Her maternal instinct told her that Natasha had too much of something, and that because of this she would not be happy. Before Natasha had finished singing, 14-year-old Petra rushed in delightedly to say that some mamas had arrived. Natasha stopped abruptly. Idiot! She screamed at her brother and running to a chair, threw herself on it, sobbing so violently she could not stop for a long time. It's nothing, mama. Really it's nothing. Only Petra startled me, she said, trying to smile. But her tears still flowed and stops still choked her. The mamas, some of the house served, stretched up as bears, turks, innkeepers and ladies, frightening and funny, bringing in with them the cold from outside and a feeling of gaity, crowded, at first timidly into the anti-room, then hiding behind one another they pushed into the ballroom, where, shyly at first, and then more and more merrily and heartily, they started singing and dancing and playing Christmas games. The Countess, when she had identified them and laughed at their costumes, went into the drawing room. The Count started the ballroom, smiling radiantly and applauding the players. The young people had disappeared. Half an hour later there appeared among the other mamas in the ballroom an old lady in a hoop skirt. This was Nicholas, a Turkish girl. This was Petja, a clown, was Dimla, a ha-sa was Natasha, and a circasian was Sonia, with burnt cork moustache and eyebrows. After the condescending surprise and non-recognition and praise from those who were not themselves dressed up, the young people decided that their costumes were so good that they ought to be shown elsewhere. Nicholas, who, as the roads were in splendid condition, wanted to take them all for a drive in his troika, proposed to take with them about a dozen of the serf mamas and drive to uncles. No, why disturb the fellow, said the Countess, besides, you wouldn't have room to turn around there. If you must go, go to the Melukovs. Melukova was a widow who, with her family and their tutors and governesses, lived three miles from the rust-offs. That's right, my dear, chimed in the old Count, thoroughly aroused. I'll dress up at once and go with them. I'll make Petja to open her eyes. But the Countess would not agree to his going. He had had a bad leg all these days. It was decided that the Count must not go, but that if Louisa of Novda, Madame Shosh, would go with them, the young ladies might go to the Melukovs. Sonia, generally so timid and shy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse. Sonia's costume was the best of all. Her moustache and eyebrows were extraordinarily becoming. Everyone told her she looked very handsome, and she was in a spirited and energetic mood unusual with her. Some in her voice told her that now or never her fate would be decided, and in her male attire she seemed quite a different person. Louisa Ivanovna consented to go, and in half an hour, four Troika slaves with large and small bells, their runners squeaking and whistling over the frozen snow, drove up to the porch. Natasha was the foremost in setting the merry holiday tone, which, passing from one to another, grew stronger and reached its climax when they all came out into the frost and got into the slaves, talking and calling to one another, laughing and shouting. Two of the Troikas were the usual household slaves, and the third were the old counts with a trotter from the Olof's study of the Shaft horse, and the fourth was Nicholas's own with a short shaggy black Shaft horse. Nicholas, in his old lady's dress, over which he had belted his hasarkoat, stood in the middle of the sleigh, it was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from the metal harness discs and from the eyes of the horses, who looked around in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof. Natasha Sonu, Madame Chos, and two maids got into Nicholas's sleigh, Dimla, his wife and Petra, into the old counts, and the rest of the mummers seated themselves in the other two sleighs. You go ahead, Zakhar, shouted Nicholas to his father's coachman, wishing for a chance to race past him. The old counts Troika, with Dimla and his party, started forward, squeaking on its runners, although freezing to the snow, its deep-toned bell-clanning. The side horses, pressing against the shafts of the middle horses, sank in the snow, which was dry and glittering like sugar, and threw it up. Nicholas set off, following the first sleigh to move noisily, their runners squeaking. At first they drove at a steady trot along the narrow road, while they drove past the garden the shadows of the bare trees often fell across the road and hid the brilliant moonlight, but as soon as they were past the fence, the snowy plain bathed in moonlight motionless spread out before them, glittering like diamonds and dappled with bluish shadows. Bang bang went the first sleigh over a cradle hole in the snow of the road, and each of the other sleighs jolted in the same way, and rudely breaking the frostbound stillness, the troikers began to speed along the road, one after the other. A hare's track, a lot of tracks, rang out Natasha's voice through the frostbound air. How light as is Nicholas, came Sonia's voice. Nicholas glanced around at Sonia and bent over to see her face closer. Quite a new, sweet face, with black eyebrows and the moustaches peeped up at him from her sable furs, so close and yet so distant in the moonlight. That used to be Sonia, he thought, and he looked at her closer and smiled. What is it, Nicholas? Nothing, he said, and turned again to the horses. When they came out onto the beaten high road, polished by sleigh runners and cut up by rough-shod hooves, the marks of which were visible in the moonlight, the horses began to tug at the reins of their own accord and increased their pace. The near-side horse, arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at his traces. The shaft-horse swayed from side to side, moving his ears as he was asking, Isn't it time to begin now? In front, already far ahead, the deep bell of the sleigh ringing farther and farther off, the black horses driven by the car could clearly be seen against the white snow. From that sleigh, one could hear shouts, laughter, and voices of the mummies. Ye up, my darlings, shouted Nicholas, pulling the reins to one side and flourishing the whip. It was only by the keener wind that met them and the jerks given by the side horses who pulled harder, ever-increasing their gallop that one noticed how fast the troika was flying. Nicholas looked back, with screams, squeals, and waving of whips that caused even the shaft-horses to gallop. The other sleighs followed. The shaft-horse swung steadily beneath the bow over its head with no thought of slackening pace ready to put on speed when required. Nicholas overtook the first sleigh. They were driving downhill and coming out on a broad trodden track across a meadow near a river. Where are we, we thought? This is Kosoi Meadow, I suppose, but no, this is something new I've never seen before. Isn't Kosoi Meadow nor the Demken Hill? And Heaven only knows what it is. It is something new and enchanted. Well, whatever it may be, and shouting to his horses, he began to pass the first sleigh. Zakhar held back his horses and turned his face, which was already covered with whorefrost to his eyebrows. Nicholas gave the horses the rain and Zakhar, stretching at his arms, plucked his tongue and let his horses go. Now look out, master, he cried. Faster still, the two troikas flew side by side and faster moved the feet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead. Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand with the reins. No, you won't, master, he shouted. Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. The horses showered with fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh. Besides them, sounded quick-winning bells and they caught confusing glimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troika they were passing. The whistling sounds of the runners on the snow and the voices of girls shrieking were heard from the different sides. Checking again his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They were still surrounded by the magical plane bathed in moonlight and spangled with stars. The car is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to the left, thought Nicholas? Are we getting to the Melukovs? Is this Melukovka? Heaven only knows where we're going, and heaven knows what is happening to us, but it is very strange and pleasant, whatever it is. He looked around the sleigh. Look, his moustache and eyelashes are all white, said one of the strange, pretty, unfamiliar people, the one with fine eyebrows and a moustache. I think this used to be Natasha's, thought Nicholas, and that was Madame Chos, but perhaps it is not, the moustache, I don't know, but I love her. Aren't you cold, he asked? They did not answer, but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleigh behind shouted something, probably something funny, but they could not make out what it was. Yes, yes, some voices answered, laughing. But here was a fairy forest with black moving shadows and a glitter of diamonds and a flight of marble steps and the silver roofs of fairy buildings and the shrill yells of some animals. And if this really is Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we drove heaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka, thought Nicholas. It really was Melyukovka, and the maids and footmen with merry faces came running out to the porch carrying candles. Who is it, asked someone on the porch? The mummers from the counts I know from the horses replied the voices. Chapter 10 In Peace Book 7 Chapter 11 Read for LibriVox.org by Elena Pelagia Denilovna Melyukova a broadly built energetic woman wearing spectacles sat in the drawing room in a loose dress surrounded by her daughters whom she was trying to keep from feeling dull. They were quietly dropping melted wax into snow and looking at the shadows the wax figures would throw on the wall when they heard the steps and voices of the new arrivals in the vestibule. Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns and bears after clearing their throats and wiping the whorefrost from their faces in the vestibule came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted. The clown, Dimla and the lady, Nicholas started to dance surrounded by the screaming children and the mummers covering their faces and disguising their voices bowing to their hostess and arranged themselves about the room. Tim, me, there's no recognising them and Natasha see whom she looks like she really reminds me of somebody but Herr Dimla isn't he good? I don't know him but he dances Dim, me, there's a circassian really how becoming it is to do Sonja and who is that? Well, you have cheered us up Nikita and Vanya clear away the tables and here we were sitting so quietly ha ha ha the Hussar, the Hussar just like a boy and the legs, I can't look at him different voices were saying Melikov's favourite disappeared with them into the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male garments were called for and received from the footmen by bare girly shams from behind the door ten minutes later all the young Melikovs joined the mummers Pelgya Danilovnya having given orders to clear the rooms for the visitors and arranged about refreshments and the serfs went about among the mummers without removing her spectacles peering into their faces with a suppressed smile and failing to recognise any of them it was not merely Dimla and the Rostovs she failed to recognise she did not even recognise her own daughters or her late husbands dressing gowns and uniforms which they had put on and who is this? asked her governess her own daughter dressed up like Kazan Tatar I suppose it is one of the Rostovs well Mr. Hussar and what regiment do you serve in she asked Natasha here, handsome fruit jelly to the Turk she ordered the butler who was handing things around that's not forbidden by his law sometimes she looked at the strange bit amusing capers cut by the dancers who having decided once for all and disguised no one would recognise them were not at all shy Pella Gaia Danilovna hit her face with her handkerchief and her whole stout body shook with irrepressible kindly elderly laughter my little Sasha look at Sasha she said after Russian country dancers and chorus dancers Pella Gaia Danilovna joined in one large circle a ring a string and a silver rubel were fetched and they all played games together in an hour all the costumes were crumpled and disordered the corked eyebrows and moustaches were smeared over the perspiring flushed and merry faces Pella Gaia Danilovna began to recount the monas admired their cleverly contrived costumes and particularly how they suited the young ladies and she thanked them all for having entertained her so well the visitors were invited to supper in the drawing room and the serfs had something served to them in the ballroom now to tell one's fortune in the empty bath house is frightening said an old maid who lived with the Melyukovs during supper why? said the eldest Melyukov girl oh you wouldn't go it takes courage I'll go! said Sonya look what happened to the young lady said the second Melyukov girl well began the old maid a young lady once went out took a cock laid the table for two all properly and sat down after sitting a while she suddenly hears someone coming a slave drives up with harness bells she hears him coming he comes in just in the shape of a man like an officer comes in and sits down to table with her screaming Natasha rolling her eyes in horror yes and how did he speak yes like a man everything quite all right he began persuading her and she should have just kept him talking to a cock crew but she got frightened and hit her face in her hands and then he caught her up it was lucky the maid ran in then now why frighten them said Pelageya Danilovna Mama you used to try fate yourself said her daughter and how does one do it in a barn required Sonya well say you went into the barn now and listen it depends on what you hear hammering or knocking that's bad but a sound of shifting grain is good and sometimes one hears that too Mama tell us what happened to you in the barn Pelageya Danilovna smiled oh I've forgotten she replied but none of you would go yes I will Pelageya Danilovna let me I'll go said Sonya well why not if you're not afraid Louisa Ivanovna may I asked Sonya whether they were playing the ring and string game or the ruble game or talking as now Nicholas did not leave Sonya's side and gazed at her with quiet new eyes it seemed to him that it was only today thanks to that weren't cork moustache that he had fully learnt to know her and really that evening Sonya was brighter, more animated and prettier than Nicholas had ever seen her before I'm not afraid of anything said Sonya may I go at once she got up they told her where the barn was to stand and listen and they handed her a fur cloak she threw this over her head and shoulders and glanced at Nicholas how darling that girl is he thought and what have I been thinking of till now Sonya went out into the passage to go to the barn Nicholas went hastily to the front porch saying he felt too hot the crowd of people really had made the house stuffy outside there was the same cold stillness and the same moon that even brighter than before the light was so strong and the snow sparkled and so many stars that one did not wish to look up at the sky and the real stars were unnoticed the sky was black and dreary while the earth was gay I'm a fool, a fool what have I been waiting for thought Nicholas and running out from the porch he went around the corner of the house to the front porch he knew Sonya would pass that way halfway lay some snow covered piles of firewood and across and along them a network of shadows from the bare old lime trees fell on the snow and on the path this path led to the barn the log walls of the barn and its snow covered roof that looked as if hewn out of some precious stone sparkled in the moonlight a tree in the garden snapped with the frost and then all was again perfectly silent his bosom seemed to inhale not air but the strength of eternal youth and gladness from the back porch came the sound of feet descending the steps the bottom step upon which snow had fallen gave a ringing creak and he heard the voice of an old maid service saying straight straight along the path miss we don't look back I'm not afraid answered Sonya's voice and along the path towards Nicholas came the crunching whistling sound of Sonya's feet in her thin shoes Sonya came along wrapped in her cloak she was only a couple of paces away when she saw him and to her too he was not the Nicholas she had known and always slightly feared in his dress with tussled hair and a happy smile new to Sonya she ran rapidly towards him quite different and yet the same thought Nicholas looking at her face or lit up by the moonlight he slipped his arms under the cloak that had covered her head embraced her pressed her to him and kissed her on the lips that wore a moustache and had a smell of burnt cork Sonya kissed him full on the lips and disengaging her little hands pressed them to his cheeks Sonya Nicholas was all that they said they ran to the barn and then back again a re-entering he by the front and she by the back porch End of Chapter 11 War and Peace Book 7 Chapter 12 By Elena Chapter 12 When they all drove back from Pelagia Denilovna Natasha who always saw and noticed everything arranged that she in madame shot should go back in the sleigh with dimler and Sonya with Nicholas and the maids on the way back and Nicholas drove at a steady pace instead of racing and kept peering by that fantastic all transforming light into Sonya's face and searching beneath the eyebrows and moustache for his former and his present Sonya from whom he had resolved never to be parted again he looked and recognising in her both old the old and the new Sonya and being reminded by the smell of burnt cork of the sensation of her kiss inhaled the frosty air with a full breast and the ground flying beneath him and at the sparkling sky felt himself again in fairy land Sonya is it well with thee he asked from time to time yes he replied and with thee then half way home Nicholas handed the reins to the coachman and ran for a moment to Natasha's sleigh and stood on its wing Natasha he whispered in French Do you know I have made up my mind to be with Sonya have you told her asked Natasha suddenly beaming all over with joy how strange it you are with that moustache and those eyebrows Natasha are you glad I'm so glad so glad I was beginning to be vexed with you I did not tell you but you have been treating her badly what a heart she has Nicholas I am horrid sometimes I claimed to be happy while Sonya was not continued Natasha I am so glad we'll run back to her no wait a bit how funny you look cried Nicholas peering into her face and finding in his sister too something new unusual and bewitchingly tender that he had not seen in her before Natasha it's magical isn't it yes she replied you have done splendidly had I seen her before as she is now thought Nicholas I should long ago have asked her what to do and have done whatever she told me and all of would have been well so you are glad and I have done right oh quite right I had a quarrel with Mama some time ago about it Mama said she was angling for you how could she say such a thing I nearly stormed at Mama but anyone say anything bad of Sonya for there is nothing but good in her then it's all right said Nicholas again scrutinising the expression of his sister's face to see if she was in earnest then he jumped down and his boots crunching on the snow ran back to his sleigh the same happy smiling Circassian with mustache and beaming eyes looked up from under the sable hood was still sitting there that Circassian was Sonya and that Sonya was certainly his future happy and loving wife when they reached home and had told their mother how they had spent the evening at the Melyukovs the girls went to their bedroom when they had undressed without washing off the cork mustaches they sat a long time talking of their happiness they talked of how they would live when they were married the girls would be friends and how happy they would be on Natasha's table stood two looking glasses which Dunyasha had prepared beforehand only when will that be I am afraid never it would be too good said Natasha raising and going to the looking glasses sit down Natasha perhaps you'll see him said Sonya Natasha lit the candles one on each side of the looking glasses and sat down I see someone move the moustache said Natasha seeing her own face you mustn't laugh miss said Dunyasha with Sonya's help and the maid Natasha got the glass she held into the right position opposite the other her face assumed a serious expression and she sat silent she sat a long time looking at the receding line of candles reflecting in the glasses reflecting from tales she had heard to see a coffin or him Prince Andrew in that last dim and distinctly outlined square but ready she was to take the smallest speck for the image of a man or of a coffin she saw nothing she began blinking rapidly and moving away from the looking glasses why is it others see things and I don't she said you sit down now Sonya tonight do it for me today I feel so frightened Sonya sat down before the glasses got to the right position and began looking now miss Sonya you're sure to see something whispered Dunyasha while you do nothing but laugh Sonya heard this and Natasha's whisper I know she will she saw something last year for about three minutes all were silent of course she will whispered Natasha but did not finish suddenly Sonya pushed away the glass she was holding and covered her eyes with her hand oh Natasha she cried did you see did you what was it exclaimed Natasha holding up the looking glass Sonya had not seen anything she was just wanting to blink and to get up when she heard Natasha say of course she will she did not wish to disappoint either Dunyasha or Natasha but it was hard to sit still she did not herself know how or why the exclamation escaped her when she covered her eyes you saw him urge Natasha seizing her hands yes wait a bit I saw him Natasha could not help saying not yet knowing whom Natasha meant by him Nicholas or Prince Andrew why shouldn't I say I saw something others do see besides who can tell whether I saw anything or not flashed through Sonya's mind yes I saw him she said how standing or lying no I saw at first there was nothing then I saw him lying down Andrew lying is he ill asked Natasha her frightened eyes fixed on her friend no on the contrary on the contrary his face was cheerful and he turned to me and when saying this she fancied she had really seen what she had described well and then Sonya after that I could not make out what there was something blue and red Sonya will he come back when shall I see him oh God how afraid I am for him and for myself not everything Natasha began and without replying to Sonya's words of comfort she got into bed and long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless gazing at the moonlight through the frosty window panes End of Chapter 12 War and Peace Book 7 Chapter 13 Read for LibriVox.org by Elena Chapter 13 Soon after the Christmas holidays Nicholas told his mother of his love for Sonya and of his firm resolve to marry her the Countess who had long noticed what was going on between them and was expecting this declaration listened to him in silence and then told her son that he might marry whom he pleased but that neither she nor his father would give their blessing to such a marriage Nicholas for the first time felt that his mother was displeased with him and that despite her love for him she would not give way coldly without looking at her son she sent for her husband and when he came tried briefly and coldly to inform him of the facts in her son's presence but unable to restrain herself she burst into tears of excation and left the room the old Count began irresolutely to admonish Nicholas and to beg him to abandon his purpose Nicholas replied that he could not go back on his word and his father sighing and evidently disconcerted soon became silent and went into the Countess in all his encounters with his son the Count was always conscious of his own guilt towards him for having wasted the family fortune so he could not be angry with him for refusing to marry an heiress and for choosing the dourless Sonia on this occasion he was only more vividly conscious of the fact that if his affairs had not been discovered no better wife for Nicholas than Sonia could have been wished for and that no one but himself with his Mutenka and his uncomfortable habits was to blame for the condition of the family's finances the father and mother did not speak of the matter to their son again but a few days later the Countess sent for Sonia and with a cruelty neither of them expected reproached her niece for trying to catch Nicholas and for ingratitude Sonia listened silently with downcast eyes to the Countess's cruel words without understanding what was required of her she was ready to sacrifice everything for her benefactors self-sacrifice with her most cherished idea in this case she could not see what she ought to sacrifice or for whom she could not help loving the Countess and the whole Rostov family but neither could she help loving Nicholas and knowing that his happiness depended on that love she was silent and sad and did not reply Nicholas felt the situation to be intolerable and went to have an explanation with his mother he first implored her to forgive him Sonia and consent to their marriage then he threatened that if she molested Sonia he wouldn't once marry her secretly the Countess with a coldness her son had never seen in her before replied that he was of age and Prince Andrew was marrying without his father's consent and that he could do the same but that she would never receive the intrigue as her daughter exploding at the word intrigue Nicholas raised his voice and told his mother that he had never expected her to try and force him to sell his feelings but if that was so then he would say for the last time but he had no time to utter the decisive word which the expression of his face caused his mother to await with terror and which would perhaps have ever remained a cruel memory to them both he had no time to say it for Natasha with pale and a set face entered the room from the door and she had been listening Nicholas, you are talking nonsense be quiet be quiet, be quiet tell you, she almost screamed as if to drown his voice Mama darling it's not at all so my poor sweet darling she said to her mother who conscious that they had been on the brink of a rupture gazed at her son with terror but in the obstinacy and excitement of the conflict give way Nicholas, I'll explain to you go away listen Mama darling said Natasha her words were incoherent but they attained the purpose at which she was aiming the countess sobbing heavily hit her face on her daughter's breast while Nicholas rose clutching his head and left the room Natasha set to work to effect a reconciliation and so far succeeded that Nicholas received a promise from his mother that Sonia should not be troubled while he on his side promised not to undertake anything without his parents knowledge firmly resolved after putting his affairs in order in the regiment to retire from the army and return and marry Sonia Nicholas, serious, sorrowful and at variance with his parents but as it seemed to him passionately in love left at the beginning of January to rejoin his regiment after Nicholas had gone things in the Rostov household were more depressing than ever and the countess fell ill from mental agitation Sonia was unhappy at the separation from Nicholas and still more so on account of the hostile tone the countess could not help adopting towards her the count was more perturbed than ever by the condition of his affairs the countess was called for some decisive action their townhouse in a state near Moscow had inevitably to be sold and for this they had to go to Moscow but the countess's health obliged them to delay their departure from day to day Natasha who had borne the first period of separation from her betrothed lightly and even cheerfully now grew more agitated and impatient every day the best days which she would have employed in loving him were being vainly wasted with no advantage to anyone tormented her incessantly his letters for the most part irritated her it hurt her to think that while she lived only in the thought of him he was living a real life seeing new places and new people that interested him and more interesting his letters were the more vexed that she felt that him far from giving her any comfort seemed to her a wearisome and artificial obligation she could not write because she could not conceive the possibility of expressing sincerely in a letter even a thousandth part of what she expressed by voice smile and glance she wrote to him formal monotonous and dry letters to which she attached no importance herself and in the rough copies of which the Countess corrected her mistakes in spelling there was still no improvement in the Countess' health but it was impossible to defer the journey to Moscow any longer Natasha's trousseau had to be ordered and the house sold moreover Prince Andrew was expected in Moscow where the old Prince Bulkonski was spending the winter and Natasha felt sure he had already arrived so the Countess remained in the country and the Count taking Sonya and Natasha with him went to Moscow at the end of January end of chapter 13 recording by Elena end of war and peace book 7 by Leo Tolstoy