Emma Watson Pussy
Books:
Anna Karenina
War And Peace
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her often, but yet always became ill-humored
when she began to talk about her.
Nicholas tried to keep silence when his mother spoke of the
princess, but his silence irritated her.
"She is a very admirable and excellent young woman," said she,
"and you must go and call on her. You would at least be seeing
somebody, and I think it must be dull for you only seeing us."
"But I dont in the least want to, Mamma."
"You used to want to, and now you dont. Really I dont understand
you, my dear. One day you are dull, and the next you refuse to see
anyone."
"But I never said I was dull."
"Why, you said yourself you dont want even to see her. She is a
very admirable young woman and you always liked her, but now
suddenly you have got some notion or other in your head. You hide
everything from me."
"Not at all, Mamma."
"If I were asking you to do something disagreeable now--but I only
ask you to return a call. One would think mere politeness required
it.... Well, I have asked you, and now I wont interfere any more
since you have secrets from your mother."
"Well, then, Ill go if you wish it."
"It doesnt matter to me. I only wish it for your sake."
Nicholas sighed, bit his mustache, and laid out the cards for a
patience, trying to divert his mothers attention to another topic.
The same conversation was repeated next day and the day after, and
the day after that.
After her visit to the Rostovs and her unexpectedly chilly reception
by Nicholas, Princess Mary confessed to herself that she had been
right in not wishing to be the first to call.
"I expected nothing else," she told herself, calling her pride to
her aid. "I have nothing to do with him and I only wanted to see the
old lady, who was always kind to me and to whom I am under many
obligations."
But she could not pacify herself with these reflections; a feeling
akin to remorse troubled her when she thought of her visit. Though she
had firmly resolved not to call on the Rostovs again and to forget the
whole matter, she felt herself all the time in an awkward position.
And when she asked herself what distressed her, she had to admit
that it was her relation to Rostov. His cold, polite manner did not
express his feeling for her (she knew that) but it concealed
something, and until she could discover what that something was, she
felt that she could not be at ease.
One day in midwinter when sitting in the schoolroom attending to her
nephews lessons, she was informed that Rostov had called. With a firm
resolution not to betray herself and not show her agitation, she
sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne and went with her to the drawing room.
Her first glance at Nicholas face told her that he had only come to
fulfill the demands of politeness, and she firmly resolved to maintain
the tone in which he addressed her.
They spoke of the countess health, of their mutual friends, of
the latest war news, and when the ten minutes required by propriety
had elapsed after which a visitor may rise, Nicholas got up to say
good-by.
With Mademoiselle Bouriennes help the princess had maintained the
conversation very well, but at the very last moment, just when he
rose, she was so tired of talking of what did not interest her, and
her mind was so full of the question why she alone was granted so
little happiness in life, that in a fit of absent-mindedness she sat
still, her luminous eyes gazing fixedly before her, not noticing
that he had risen.
Nicholas glanced at her and, wishing to appear not to notice her
abstraction, made some remark to Mademoiselle Bourienne and then again
looked at the princess. She still sat motionless with a look of
suffering on her gentle face. He suddenly felt sorry for her and was
vaguely conscious that he might be the cause of the sadness her face
expressed. He wished to help her and say something pleasant, but could
think of nothing to say.
"Good-by, Princess!" said he.
She started, flushed, and sighed deeply.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said as if waking up. "Are you going
already, Count? Well then, good-by! Oh, but the cushion for the
countess!"
"Wait a moment, Ill fetch it," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, and she
left the room.
They both sat silent, with an occasional glance at one another.
"Yes, Princess," said Nicholas at last
War And Peace page 682 War And Peace page 684
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