Book Seven: 1810-11 - Chapter VIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Count Ilya Rostov had resigned the position of Marshal of theNobility because it involved him in too much expense, but still hisaffairs did not improve. Natasha and Nicholas often noticed theirparents conferring together anxiously and privately and heardsuggestions of selling the fine ancestral Rostov house and estate nearMoscow. It was not necessary to entertain so freely as when thecount had been Marshal, and life at Otradnoe was quieter than informer years, but still the enormous house and its lodges were full ofpeople and more than twenty sat down to table every day. These wereall their own people who had settled down in the house almost asmembers of the family, or persons who were, it seemed, obliged to livein the count's house. Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife,Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady,an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, thegirls' former governess, and other people who simply found itpreferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house thanat home. They had not as many visitors as before, but the old habitsof life without which the count and countess could not conceive ofexistence remained unchanged. There was still the huntingestablishment which Nicholas had even enlarged, the same fiftyhorses and fifteen grooms in the stables, the same expensivepresents and dinner parties to the whole district on name days;there were still the count's games of whist and boston, at which-spreading out his cards so that everybody could see them- he lethimself be plundered of hundreds of rubles every day by his neighbors,who looked upon an opportunity to play a rubber with Count Rostov as amost profitable source of income.

　　The count moved in his affairs as in a huge net, trying not tobelieve that he was entangled but becoming more and more so at everystep, and feeling too feeble to break the meshes or to set to workcarefully and patiently to disentangle them. The countess, with herloving heart, felt that her children were being ruined, that it wasnot the count's fault for he could not help being what he was- that(though he tried to hide it) he himself suffered from theconsciousness of his own and his children's ruin, and she tried tofind means of remedying the position. From her feminine point ofview she could see only one solution, namely, for Nicholas to marrya rich heiress. She felt this to be their last hope and that ifNicholas refused the match she had found for him, she would have toabandon the hope of ever getting matters right. This match was withJulie Karagina, the daughter of excellent and virtuous parents, a girlthe Rostovs had known from childhood, and who had now become a wealthyheiress through the death of the last of her brothers.

　　The countess had written direct to Julie's mother in Moscowsuggesting a marriage between their children and had received afavorable answer from her. Karagina had replied that for her partshe was agreeable, and everything depend on her daughter'sinclination. She invited Nicholas to come to Moscow.

　　Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, told her sonthat now both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see himmarried. She said she could lie down in her grave peacefully if thatwere accomplished. Then she told him that she knew of a splendidgirl and tried to discover what he thought about marriage.

　　At other times she praised Julie to him and advised him to go toMoscow during the holidays to amuse himself. Nicholas guessed what hismother's remarks were leading to and during one of these conversationsinduced her to speak quite frankly. She told him that her only hope ofgetting their affairs disentangled now lay in his marrying JulieKaragina.

　　"But, Mamma, suppose I loved a girl who has no fortune, would youexpect me to sacrifice my feelings and my honor for the sake ofmoney?" he asked his mother, not realizing the cruelty of his questionand only wishing to show his noble-mindedness.

　　"No, you have not understood me," said his mother, not knowing howto justify herself. "You have not understood me, Nikolenka. It is yourhappiness I wish for," she added, feeling that she was telling anuntruth and was becoming entangled. She began to cry.

　　"Mamma, don't cry! Only tell me that you wish it, and you know Iwill give my life, anything, to put you at ease," said Nicholas. "Iwould sacrifice anything for you- even my feelings."

　　But the countess did not want the question put like that: she didnot want a sacrifice from her son, she herself wished to make asacrifice for him.

　　"No, you have not understood me, don't let us talk about it," shereplied, wiping away her tears.

　　"Maybe I do love a poor girl," said Nicholas to himself. "Am I tosacrifice my feelings and my honor for money? I wonder how Mamma couldspeak so to me. Because Sonya is poor I must not love her," hethought, "must not respond to her faithful, devoted love? Yet I shouldcertainly be happier with her than with some doll-like Julie. I canalways sacrifice my feelings for my family's welfare," he said tohimself, "but I can't coerce my feelings. If I love Sonya, thatfeeling is for me stronger and higher than all else."

　　Nicholas did not go to Moscow, and the countess did not renew theconversation with him about marriage. She saw with sorrow, andsometimes with exasperation, symptoms of a growing attachmentbetween her son and the portionless Sonya. Though she blamed herselffor it, she could not refrain from grumbling at and worrying Sonya,often pulling her up without reason, addressing her stiffly as "mydear," and using the formal "you" instead of the intimate "thou" inspeaking to her. The kindhearted countess was the more vexed withSonya because that poor, dark-eyed niece of hers was so meek, so kind,so devotedly grateful to her benefactors, and so faithfully,unchangingly, and unselfishly in love with Nicholas, that there wereno grounds for finding fault with her.

　　Nicholas was spending the last of his leave at home. A fourth letterhad come from Prince Andrew, from Rome, in which he wrote that hewould have been on his way back to Russia long ago had not his woundunexpectedly reopened in the warm climate, which obliged him todefer his return till the beginning of the new year. Natasha was stillas much in love with her betrothed, found the same comfort in thatlove, and was still as ready to throw herself into all the pleasuresof life as before; but at the end of the fourth month of theirseparation she began to have fits of depression which she could notmaster. She felt sorry for herself: sorry that she was being wastedall this time and of no use to anyone- while she felt herself socapable of loving and being loved.

　　Things were not cheerful in the Rostovs' home.