Page 129 of 470
At that time in the Rostvs’ house there prevailed an amorous atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very charming girls. Every young man who came to the house—seeing those impressionable, smiling young faces (smiling probably at their own happiness), feeling the eager bustle around him, and hearing the fitful bursts of song and music and the inconsequent but friendly prattle of young girls ready for anything and full of hope—experienced the same feeling; sharing with the young folk of the Rostvs’ household a readiness to fall in love and an expectation of happiness.
Among the young men introduced by Rostv one of the first was Dlokhov, whom everyone in the house liked except Natsha. She almost quarreled with her brother about him. She insisted that he was a bad man, and that in the duel with Bezkhov, Pierre was right and Dlokhov wrong, and further that he was disagreeable and unnatural.
“There’s nothing for me to understand,” she cried out with resolute self-will, “he is wicked and heartless. There now, I like your Densov though he is a rake and all that, still I like him; so you see I do understand. I don’t know how to put it... with this one everything is calculated, and I don’t like that. But Densov...”
“Oh, Densov is quite different,” replied Nicholas, implying that even Densov was nothing compared to Dlokhov—“you must understand what a soul there is in Dlokhov, you should see him with his mother. What a heart!”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but I am uncomfortable with him. And do you know he has fallen in love with Snya?”
“What nonsense...”
“I’m certain of it; you’ll see.”
Natsha’s prediction proved true. Dlokhov, who did not usually care for the society of ladies, began to come often to the house, and the question for whose sake he came (though no one spoke of it) was soon settled. He came because of Snya. And Snya, though she would never have dared to say so, knew it and blushed scarlet every time Dlokhov appeared.
Dlokhov often dined at the Rostvs’, never missed a performance at which they were present, and went to Iogel’s balls for young people which the Rostvs always attended. He was pointedly attentive to Snya and looked at her in such a way that not only could she not bear his glances without coloring, but even the old countess and Natsha blushed when they saw his looks.
It was evident that this strange, strong man was under the irresistible influence of the dark, graceful girl who loved another.
Rostv noticed something new in Dlokhov’s relations with Snya, but he did not explain to himself what these new relations were. “They’re always in love with someone,” he thought of Snya and Natsha. But he was not as much at ease with Snya and Dlokhov as before and was less frequently at home.
In the autumn of 1806 everybody had again begun talking of the war with Napoleon with even greater warmth than the year before. Orders were given to raise recruits, ten men in every thousand for the regular army, and besides this, nine men in every thousand for the militia. Everywhere Bonaparte was anathematized and in Moscow nothing but the coming war was talked of. For the Rostv family the whole interest of these preparations for war lay in the fact that Nicholas would not hear of remaining in Moscow, and only awaited the termination of Densov’s furlough after Christmas to return with him to their regiment. His approaching departure did not prevent his amusing himself, but rather gave zest to his pleasures. He spent the greater part of his time away from home, at dinners, parties, and balls.
On the third day after Christmas Nicholas dined at home, a thing he had rarely done of late. It was a grand farewell dinner, as he and Densov were leaving to join their regiment after Epiphany. About twenty people were present, including Dlokhov and Densov.
Never had love been so much in the air, and never had the amorous atmosphere made itself so strongly felt in the Rostvs’ house as at this holiday time. “Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the one thing we are interested in here,” said the spirit of the place.
Nicholas, having as usual exhausted two pairs of horses, without visiting all the places he meant to go to and where he had been invited, returned home just before dinner. As soon as he entered he noticed and felt the tension of the amorous air in the house, and also noticed a curious embarrassment among some of those present. Snya, Dlokhov, and the old countess were especially disturbed, and to a lesser degree Natsha. Nicholas understood that something must have happened between Snya and Dlokhov before dinner, and with the kindly sensitiveness natural to him was very gentle and wary with them both at dinner. On that same evening there was to be one of the balls that Iogel (the dancing master) gave for his pupils during the holidays.
“Nicholas, will you come to Iogel’s? Please do!” said Natsha. “He asked you, and Vasli Dmtrich * is also going.”
* Densov.
“Where would I not go at the countess’ command!” said Densov, who at the Rostvs’ had jocularly assumed the role of Natsha’s knight. “I’m even weady to dance the pas de chle.”
“If I have time,” answered Nicholas. “But I promised the Arkhrovs; they have a party.”
“And you?” he asked Dlokhov, but as soon as he had asked the question he noticed that it should not have been put.
“Perhaps,” coldly and angrily replied Dlokhov, glancing at Snya, and, scowling, he gave Nicholas just such a look as he had given Pierre at the club dinner.
“There is something up,” thought Nicholas, and he was further confirmed in this conclusion by the fact that Dlokhov left immediately after dinner. He called Natsha and asked her what was the matter.
“And I was looking for you,” said Natsha running out to him. “I told you, but you would not believe it,” she said triumphantly. “He has proposed to Snya!”
Little as Nicholas had occupied himself with Snya of late, something seemed to give way within him at this news. Dlokhov was a suitable and in some respects a brilliant match for the dowerless, orphan girl. From the point of view of the old countess and of society it was out of the question for her to refuse him. And therefore Nicholas’ first feeling on hearing the news was one of anger with Snya.... He tried to say, “That’s capital; of course she’ll forget her childish promises and accept the offer,” but before he had time to say it Natsha began again.
