Book Four : 1806 - Chapter 16

________________________________________________
_ It was long since Rostov had felt such enjoyment from music as he
did that day. But no sooner had Natasha finished her barcarolle than
reality again presented itself. He got up without saying a word and
went downstairs to his own room. A quarter of an hour later the old
count came in from his Club, cheerful and contented. Nicholas, hearing
him drive up, went to meet him.

"Well- had a good time?" said the old count, smiling gaily and
proudly at his son.

Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into
sobs. The count was lighting his pipe and did not notice his son's
condition.

"Ah, it can't be avoided!" thought Nicholas, for the first and
last time. And suddenly, in the most casual tone, which made him
feel ashamed feel of himself, he said, as if merely asking his
father to let him have the carriage to drive to town:

"Papa, I have come on a matter of business. I was nearly forgetting.
I need some money."

"Dear me!" said his father, who was in a specially good humor. "I
told you it would not be enough. How much?"

"Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless
smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a
little, I mean a good deal, a great deal- forty three thousand."

"What! To whom?... Nonsense!" cried the count, suddenly reddening
with an apoplectic flush over neck and nape as old people do.

"I promised to pay tomorrow," said Nicholas.

"Well!..." said the old count, spreading out his arms and sinking
helplessly on the sofa.

"It can't be helped It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a
bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as
a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his
crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his
forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it
happens to everyone!

The old count cast down his eyes on hearing his son's words and
began bustlingly searching for something.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, "it will be difficult, I fear, difficult to
raise... happens to everybody! Yes, who has not done it?"

And with a furtive glance at his son's face, the count went out of
the room.... Nicholas had been prepared for resistance, but had not at
all expected this.

"Papa! Pa-pa!" he called after him, sobbing, "forgive me!" And
seizing his father's hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into
tears.

While father and son were having their explanation, the mother and
daughter were having one not less important. Natasha came running to
her mother, quite excited.

"Mamma!... Mamma!... He has made me..."

"Made what?"

"Made, made me an offer, Mamma! Mamma!" she exclaimed.

The countess did not believe her ears. Denisov had proposed. To
whom? To this chit of a girl, Natasha, who not so long ago was playing
with dolls and who was still having lessons.

"Don't, Natasha! What nonsense!" she said, hoping it was a joke.

"Nonsense, indeed! I am telling you the fact," said Natasha
indignantly. "I come to ask you what to do, and you call it
'nonsense!'"

The countess shrugged her shoulders.

"If it true that Monsieur Denisov has made you a proposal, tell
him he is a fool, that's all!"

"No, he's not a fool!" replied Natasha indignantly and seriously.

"Well then, what do you want? You're all in love nowadays. Well,
if you are in love, marry him!" said the countess, with a laugh of
annoyance. "Good luck to you!"

"No, Mamma, I'm not in love with him, I suppose I'm not in love with
him."

"Well then, tell him so."

"Mamma, are you cross? Don't be cross, dear! Is it my fault?"

"No, but what is it, my dear? Do you want me to go and tell him?"
said the countess smiling.

"No, I will do it myself, only tell me what to say. It's all very
well for you," said Natasha, with a responsive smile. "You should have
seen how he said it! I know he did not mean to say it, but it came out
accidently."

"Well, all the same, you must refuse him."

"No, I mustn't. I am so sorry for him! He's so nice."

"Well then, accept his offer. It's high time for you to be married,"
answered the countess sharply and sarcastically.

"No, Mamma, but I'm so sorry for him. I don't know how I'm to say
it."

"And there's nothing for you to say. I shall speak to him myself,"
said the countess, indignant that they should have dared to treat this
little Natasha as grown up.

"No, not on any account! I will tell him myself, and you'll listen
at the door," and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing
hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord
with his face in his hands.

He jumped up at the sound of her light step.

"Nataly," he said, moving with rapid steps toward her, "decide my
fate. It is in your hands."

"Vasili Dmitrich, I'm so sorry for you!... No, but you are so
nice... but it won't do...not that... but as a friend, I shall
always love you."

Denisov bent over her hand and she heard strange sounds she did
not understand. She kissed his rough curly black head. At this
instant, they heard the quick rustle of the countess' dress. She
came up to them.

"Vasili Dmitrich, I thank you for the honor," she said, with an
embarrassed voice, though it sounded severe to Denisov- "but my
daughter is so young, and I thought that, as my son's friend, you
would have addressed yourself first to me. In that case you would
not have obliged me to give this refusal."

"Countess..." said Denisov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face. He
tried to say more, but faltered.

Natasha could not remain calm, seeing him in such a plight. She
began to sob aloud.

"Countess, I have done w'ong," Denisov went on in an unsteady voice,
"but believe me, I so adore your daughter and all your family that I
would give my life twice over..." He looked at the countess, and
seeing her severe face said: "Well, good-by, Countess," and kissing
her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without
looking at Natasha.

Next day Rostov saw Denisov off. He not wish to stay another day
in Moscow. All Denisov's Moscow friends gave him a farewell
entertainment at the gypsies', with the result that he had no
recollection of how he was put in the sleigh or of the first three
stages of his journey.

After Denisov's departure, Rostov spent another fortnight in Moscow,
without going out of the house, waiting for the money his father could
not at once raise, and he spent most of his time in the girls' room.

Sonya was more tender and devoted to him than ever. It was as if she
wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her
love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of
her.

He filled the girls' albums with verses and music, and having at
last sent Dolokhov the whole forty-three thousand rubles and
received his receipt, he left at the end of November, without taking
leave of any of his acquaintances, to overtake his regiment which
was already in Poland. _

Read next: Book Five : 1806-07: Chapter 1

Read previous: Book Four : 1806: Chapter 15

Table of content of War and Peace


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book