‘Everything’s happened at once,’ answered the count. ‘All these rags to sort out, and now suddenly there’s a buyer in prospect for the Moscow estate and the house. With your kind permission I’ll pick my moment and slip over to the estate for a day or so. It would involve leaving the girls on your hands.’
‘Splendid, splendid, they’ll be all right with me. They’ll be like wards of court. I’ll take them wherever they ought to go – scold them a bit and spoil them a bit,’ said Marya Dmitriyevna, extending a large hand to touch the cheek of her god-daughter and favourite, Natasha.
Next morning Marya Dmitriyevna took the young ladies off to the Iversky chapel and then to Madame Pascal, who was so intimidated by Marya Dmitriyevna that she always sold clothes to her at a loss in order to get rid of her as fast as she could. Marya Dmitriyevna ordered almost the whole trousseau. When they got home she sent everyone but Natasha out of the room, and called her favourite over to sit beside her armchair.
‘Now, let’s have a little chat. Congratulations on your engagement. He’s a fine young man and you’ve hooked him! I’m very pleased for you. I’ve known him since he was so high,’ she said, holding her hand a couple of feet from the floor. Natasha coloured up with pleasure. ‘I’m very fond of him and all his family. But listen! I’m sure you know old Prince Nikolay was very much against his son getting married. He’s a funny old devil! Of course, Prince Andrey is not a child any more; he can get by without him. But entering another family against the father’s will is not a nice thing to do. It ought to be done with peace and love. You’re a bright girl – you’ll know how to cope. Just use your wits and your kind heart. Then everything will be all right.’
Natasha made no response, but her silence was not due to shyness, as Marya Dmitriyevna surmised. In point of fact, Natasha didn’t like people poking their noses into anything to do with her love for Prince Andrey, which seemed to her so far removed from the ordinary run of human experience that in her view no one could possibly understand it. The only man she knew and loved was Prince Andrey; he loved her, and was due to return any day now and take her away. That was all she needed.
‘I’ve known him such a long time, you see, and I do love your future sister-in-law, Masha. As they say, new sisters cause blisters, but she won’t; she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s been asking me to bring you two together. You must go and see her tomorrow with your father. Try to be nice to her; she’s older than you. By the time your young man gets back, you’ll have got to know his sister and his father, and you’ll have won them over. Am I right? This is the best way, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Natasha without much enthusiasm.
CHAPTER 7
Next day, acting on Marya Dmitriyevna’s advice, Count Rostov took Natasha to call on Prince Nikolay Bolkonsky. The count was unhappy about this; he was not looking forward to the visit and he approached it with dread in his heart. The last meeting with the old prince at the time of the recruitment levy was still fresh in his mind – he had invited Bolkonsky to dinner and in return he had been forced to sit through a furious diatribe for not having sent enough men. Natasha, by contrast, had put on her best dress and was in high spirits. ‘They’re bound to like me,’ she thought. ‘Everybody does. And I’m ready to do anything they want, and love them both for being his father and his sister. There can’t be any reason for them not to like me!’
They drove up to the gloomy old house on the Vozdvizhenka and went into the vestibule.
