Book One: 1805 - Chapter XI

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably,but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if theynow rose and took their leave. The visitor's daughter was alreadysmoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, whensuddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girlsrunning to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and agirl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslinfrock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It wasevident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far.Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coatcollar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plumprosy-faced boy in a short jacket.

　　The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread hisarms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in.

　　"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day itis. My dear pet!"

　　"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess withfeigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to herhusband.

　　"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of yourname day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added,addressing the mother.

　　This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life-with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shookher bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, littlelegs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just atthat charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the childis not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide herflushed face in the lace of her mother's mantilla- not paying theleast attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed,and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which sheproduced from the folds of her frock.

　　"Do you see?... My doll... Mimi... You see..." was all Natashamanaged to utter (to her everything seemed funny). She leanedagainst her mother and burst into such a loud, ringing fit of laughterthat even the prim visitor could not help joining in.

　　"Now then, go away and take your monstrosity with you," said themother, pushing away her daughter with pretended sternness, andturning to the visitor she added: "She is my youngest girl."

　　Natasha, raising her face for a moment from her mother's mantilla,glanced up at her through tears of laughter, and again hid her face.

　　The visitor, compelled to look on at this family scene, thought itnecessary to take some part in it.

　　"Tell me, my dear," said she to Natasha, "is Mimi a relation ofyours? A daughter, I suppose?"

　　Natasha did not like the visitor's tone of condescension to childishthings. She did not reply, but looked at her seriously.

　　Meanwhile the younger generation: Boris, the officer, AnnaMikhaylovna's son; Nicholas, the undergraduate, the count's eldestson; Sonya, the count's fifteen-year-old niece, and little Petya,his youngest boy, had all settled down in the drawing room and wereobviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum theexcitement and mirth that shone in all their faces. Evidently in theback rooms, from which they had dashed out so impetuously, theconversation had been more amusing than the drawing-room talk ofsociety scandals, the weather, and Countess Apraksina. Now and thenthey glanced at one another, hardly able to suppress their laughter.

　　The two young men, the student and the officer, friends fromchildhood, were of the same age and both handsome fellows, thoughnot alike. Boris was tall and fair, and his calm and handsome face hadregular, delicate features. Nicholas was short with curly hair andan open expression. Dark hairs were already showing on his upperlip, and his whole face expressed impetuosity and enthusiasm. Nicholasblushed when he entered the drawing room. He evidently tried to findsomething to say, but failed. Boris on the contrary at once foundhis footing, and related quietly and humorously how he had know thatdoll Mimi when she was still quite a young lady, before her nose wasbroken; how she had aged during the five years he had known her, andhow her head had cracked right across the skull. Having said this heglanced at Natasha. She turned away from him and glanced at heryounger brother, who was screwing up his eyes and shaking withsuppressed laughter, and unable to control herself any longer, shejumped up and rushed from the room as fast as her nimble little feetwould carry her. Boris did not laugh.

　　"You were meaning to go out, weren't you, Mamma? Do you want thecarriage?" he asked his mother with a smile.

　　"Yes, yes, go and tell them to get it ready," she answered,returning his smile.

　　Boris quietly left the room and went in search of Natasha. The plumpboy ran after them angrily, as if vexed that their program had beendisturbed.