Her brother often wondered as he watched her. She just didn’t seem like a young girl in love who was separated from her fiancé. She was calm, composed and as cheerful as ever, which didn’t seem right to Nikolay, and he became very doubtful about her engagement to Bolkonsky. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that her fate was sealed, especially without ever seeing her with Prince Andrey. He couldn’t get it out of his head that there was something wrong with this proposed marriage.
‘What’s this delay all about? Why was there no announcement?’ he thought.
In the course of a conversation with his mother about his sister, he discovered to his surprise, and somewhat to his satisfaction, that deep down his mother sometimes had her own doubts about the marriage.
‘Look what he says,’ she said, showing her son a letter from Prince Andrey with that hidden resentment that mothers always feel towards their daughters’ future married happiness. ‘He says he can’t come before December. What could possibly keep him? Illness, I suppose! He’s not very well. Don’t mention this to Natasha. And don’t be surprised if she’s all bright and cheerful. It’s just that she’s playing out the last days of her girlhood, and I know how she reacts when she gets letters from him. Oh well, God willing, everything will turn out all right.’ She ended as she always did by saying, ‘He’s a splendid man.’
CHAPTER 2
For some time after his arrival Nikolay was in a serious frame of mind bordering on depression. He was worrying about the impending need to tackle the ridiculous business affairs that had caused his mother to send for him. Then on the third day, in order to get this burden off his shoulders as soon as possible, he stormed off, scowling and saying nothing to Natasha when she asked where he was going, went straight to Mitenka’s lodge and demanded
‘You thief! . . . Ungrateful swine! . . . I’ll thrash you like a dog! . . . You’ve got
Then, with undiminished horror and pleasure, these people watched as the young count, purple with rage, his eyes bloodshot, dragged Mitenka out by the scruff of his neck, kneeing him and punctuating his own words with expert kicks up the steward’s backside, and yelled, ‘Get out of here! Get out and don’t come back, you vile crook!’
Mitenka flew headlong down the half-dozen steps and shot off into the shrubbery. (This shrubbery was well known as a haven for all the delinquents of Otradnoye. Many a time Mitenka himself had come back from town roaring drunk and gone to ground in the shrubbery, and various denizens of Otradnoye anxious to keep clear of Mitenka had become familiar with its protective powers.)
Mitenka’s wife and sisters-in-law peeped out in great alarm, scanning the passage from the doorway of their room, where a bright samovar was simmering away and the steward’s high bedstead stood out with its patchwork quilt.
The young count ignored them as he strode past with firm steps, breathing deeply, and disappeared into the house.
Word of what had happened in the lodge reached the countess immediately through her maids. She was consoled by the thought that things were bound to improve from now on, though on the other hand she was worried about her son and how these events might affect him. Once or twice she tiptoed over to his door and listened; he sat within, smoking one pipe after another.
The next day the old count took his son to one side and said with a diffident smile, ‘Listen, my dear boy, I think you may have gone a bit too far. Mitenka’s told me the whole story.’
‘I knew it,’ thought Nikolay. ‘I knew I’d never get to grips with anything in this crazy world.’
‘You lost your temper because he didn’t enter those seven hundred roubles in the book. But you see they were carried forward, and you never looked at the next page.’
‘Papa, he’s a thief and a swindler. That much I do know. And I’ve done what I’ve done. But if you prefer it that way, I won’t talk to him again.’
‘Oh no, dear boy!’ The old count was embarrassed now. He was well aware that he had mismanaged his wife’s estate and not done right by his children, but he hadn’t the first idea how to make up for it all. ‘No, please. Do go into everything. I’m an old man. I . . .’
‘No, Papa, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. You know more than I do.’
