Book One: 1805 - Chapter XII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not countingthe young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was fouryears older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-upperson), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece. Sonya was a slenderlittle brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled bylong lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and atawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of herslender but graceful and muscular arms and neck. By the grace of hermovements, by the softness and flexibility of her small limbs, andby a certain coyness and reserve of manner, she reminded one of apretty, half-grown kitten which promises to become a beautifullittle cat. She evidently considered it proper to show an interestin the general conversation by smiling, but in spite of herself hereyes under their thick long lashes watched her cousin who was going tojoin the army, with such passionate girlish adoration that her smilecould not for a single instant impose upon anyone, and it was clearthat the kitten had settled down only to spring up with more energyand again play with her cousin as soon as they too could, like Natashaand Boris, escape from the drawing room.

　　"Ah yes, my dear," said the count, addressing the visitor andpointing to Nicholas, "his friend Boris has become an officer, andso for friendship's sake he is leaving the university and me, hisold father, and entering the military service, my dear. And therewas a place and everything waiting for him in the Archives Department!Isn't that friendship?" remarked the count in an inquiring tone.

　　"But they say that war has been declared," replied the visitor.

　　"They've been saying so a long while," said the count, "andthey'll say so again and again, and that will be the end of it. Mydear, there's friendship for you," he repeated. "He's joining thehussars."

　　The visitor, not knowing what to say, shook her head.

　　"It's not at all from friendship," declared Nicholas, flaring up andturning away as if from a shameful aspersion. "It is not fromfriendship at all; I simply feel that the army is my vocation."

　　He glanced at his cousin and the young lady visitor; and they wereboth regarding him with a smile of approbation.

　　"Schubert, the colonel of the Pavlograd Hussars, is dining with ustoday. He has been here on leave and is taking Nicholas back with him.It can't be helped!" said the count, shrugging his shoulders andspeaking playfully of a matter that evidently distressed him.

　　"I have already told you, Papa," said his son, "that if you don'twish to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I am no use anywhere exceptin the army; I am not a diplomat or a government clerk.- I don'tknow how to hide what I feel." As he spoke he kept glancing with theflirtatiousness of a handsome youth at Sonya and the young ladyvisitor.

　　The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at anymoment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature.

　　"All right, all right!" said the old count. "He always flares up!This Buonaparte has turned all their heads; they all think of how herose from an ensign and became Emperor. Well, well, God grant it,"he added, not noticing his visitor's sarcastic smile.

　　The elders began talking about Bonaparte. Julie Karagina turned toyoung Rostov.

　　"What a pity you weren't at the Arkharovs' on Thursday. It was sodull without you," said she, giving him a tender smile.

　　The young man, flattered, sat down nearer to her with a coquettishsmile, and engaged the smiling Julie in a confidential conversationwithout at all noticing that his involuntary smile had stabbed theheart of Sonya, who blushed and smiled unnaturally. In the midst ofhis talk he glanced round at her. She gave him a passionately angryglance, and hardly able to restrain her tears and maintain theartificial smile on her lips, she got up and left the room. AllNicholas' animation vanished. He waited for the first pause in theconversation, and then with a distressed face left the room to findSonya.

　　"How plainly all these young people wear their hearts on theirsleeves!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, pointing to Nicholas as he wentout. "Cousinage- dangereux voisinage;"* she added.

　　*Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood.

　　"Yes," said the countess when the brightness these young peoplehad brought into the room had vanished; and as if answering a questionno one had put but which was always in her mind, "and how muchsuffering, how much anxiety one has had to go through that we mightrejoice in them now! And yet really the anxiety is greater now thanthe joy. One is always, always anxious! Especially just at this age,so dangerous both for girls and boys."

　　"It all depends on the bringing up," remarked the visitor.

　　"Yes, you're quite right," continued the countess. "Till now Ihave always, thank God, been my children's friend and had their fullconfidence," said she, repeating the mistake of so many parents whoimagine that their children have no secrets from them. "I know I shallalways be my daughters' first confidante, and that if Nicholas, withhis impulsive nature, does get into mischief (a boy can't help it), hewill all the same never be like those Petersburg young men."

　　"Yes, they are splendid, splendid youngsters," chimed in thecount, who always solved questions that seemed to him perplexing bydeciding that everything was splendid. "Just fancy: wants to be anhussar. What's one to do, my dear?"

　　"What a charming creature your younger girl is," said the visitor;"a little volcano!"

　　"Yes, a regular volcano," said the count. "Takes after me! Andwhat a voice she has; though she's my daughter, I tell the truthwhen I say she'll be a singer, a second Salomoni! We have engaged anItalian to give her lessons."

　　"Isn't she too young? I have heard that it harms the voice totrain it at that age."

　　"Oh no, not at all too young!" replied the count. "Why, ourmothers used to be married at twelve or thirteen."

　　"And she's in love with Boris already. Just fancy!" said thecountess with a gentle smile, looking at Boris' and went on, evidentlyconcerned with a thought that always occupied her: "Now you see if Iwere to be severe with her and to forbid it... goodness knows whatthey might be up to on the sly" (she meant that they would bekissing), "but as it is, I know every word she utters. She will comerunning to me of her own accord in the evening and tell me everything.Perhaps I spoil her, but really that seems the best plan. With herelder sister I was stricter."

　　"Yes, I was brought up quite differently," remarked the handsomeelder daughter, Countess Vera, with a smile.

　　But the smile did not enhance Vera's beauty as smiles generallydo; on the contrary it gave her an unnatural, and thereforeunpleasant, expression. Vera was good-looking, not at all stupid,quick at learning, was well brought up, and had a pleasant voice; whatshe said was true and appropriate, yet, strange to say, everyone-the visitors and countess alike- turned to look at her as if wonderingwhy she had said it, and they all felt awkward.

　　"People are always too clever with their eldest children and tryto make something exceptional of them," said the visitor.

　　"What's the good of denying it, my dear? Our dear countess was tooclever with Vera," said the count. "Well, what of that? She's turnedout splendidly all the same," he added, winking at Vera.

　　The guests got up and took their leave, promising to return todinner.

　　"What manners! I thought they would never go," said the countess,when she had seen her guests out.