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And with the decision and tenderness that often come at the moment of awakening, she embraced her friend, but noticing Snya’s look of embarrassment, her own face expressed confusion and suspicion.

“Snya, you’ve read that letter?” she demanded.

“Yes,” answered Snya softly.

Natsha smiled rapturously.

“No, Snya, I can’t any longer!” she said. “I can’t hide it from you any longer. You know, we love one another! Snya, darling, he writes... Snya...”

Snya stared open-eyed at Natsha, unable to believe her ears.

“And Bolknski?” she asked.

“Ah, Snya, if you only knew how happy I am!” cried Natsha. “You don’t know what love is....”

“But, Natsha, can that be all over?”

Natsha looked at Snya with wide-open eyes as if she could not grasp the question.

“Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?” said Snya.

“Oh, you don’t understand anything! Don’t talk nonsense, just listen!” said Natsha, with momentary vexation.

“But I can’t believe it,” insisted Snya. “I don’t understand. How is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly... Why, you have only seen him three times! Natsha, I don’t believe you, you’re joking! In three days to forget everything and so...”

“Three days?” said Natsha. “It seems to me I’ve loved him a hundred years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can’t understand it.... Snya, wait a bit, sit here,” and Natsha embraced and kissed her.

“I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it too, but it’s only now that I feel such love. It’s not the same as before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! Whatever he orders I shall do. You don’t understand that. What can I do? What can I do, Snya?” cried Natsha with a happy yet frightened expression.

“But think what you are doing,” cried Snya. “I can’t leave it like this. This secret correspondence... How could you let him go so far?” she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal.

“I told you that I have no will,” Natsha replied. “Why can’t you understand? I love him!”

“Then I won’t let it come to that... I shall tell!” cried Snya, bursting into tears.

“What do you mean? For God’s sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!” declared Natsha. “You want me to be miserable, you want us to be separated....”

When she saw Natsha’s fright, Snya shed tears of shame and pity for her friend.

“But what has happened between you?” she asked. “What has he said to you? Why doesn’t he come to the house?”

Natsha did not answer her questions.

“For God’s sake, Snya, don’t tell anyone, don’t torture me,” Natsha entreated. “Remember no one ought to interfere in such matters! I have confided in you....”

“But why this secrecy? Why doesn’t he come to the house?” asked Snya. “Why doesn’t he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince Andrew gave you complete freedom—if it is really so; but I don’t believe it! Natsha, have you considered what these secret reasons can be?”

Natsha looked at Snya with astonishment. Evidently this question presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know how to answer it.

“I don’t know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!”

Snya sighed and shook her head incredulously.

“If there were reasons...” she began.

But Natsha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm.

“Snya, one can’t doubt him! One can’t, one can’t! Don’t you understand?” she cried.

“Does he love you?”

“Does he love me?” Natsha repeated with a smile of pity at her friend’s lack of comprehension. “Why, you have read his letter and you have seen him.”

“But if he is dishonorable?”

“He! dishonorable? If you only knew!” exclaimed Natsha.

“If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions or cease seeing you; and if you won’t do this, I will. I will write to him, and I will tell Papa!” said Snya resolutely.

“But I can’t live without him!” cried Natsha.

“Natsha, I don’t understand you. And what are you saying! Think of your father and of Nicholas.”

“I don’t want anyone, I don’t love anyone but him. How dare you say he is dishonorable? Don’t you know that I love him?” screamed Natsha. “Go away, Snya! I don’t want to quarrel with you, but go, for God’s sake go! You see how I am suffering!” Natsha cried angrily, in a voice of despair and repressed irritation. Snya burst into sobs and ran from the room.

Natsha went to the table and without a moment’s reflection wrote that answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her freedom, she begged Princess Mary to forget everything and forgive her if she had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife. At that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natsha.

On Friday the Rostvs were to return to the country, but on Wednesday the count went with the prospective purchaser to his estate near Moscow.

On the day the count left, Snya and Natsha were invited to a big dinner party at the Kargins’, and Mrya Dmtrievna took them there. At that party Natsha again met Anatole, and Snya noticed that she spoke to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through dinner she was more agitated than ever. When they got home Natsha was the first to begin the explanation Snya expected.

“There, Snya, you were talking all sorts of nonsense about him,” Natsha began in a mild voice such as children use when they wish to be praised. “We have had an explanation today.”

“Well, what happened? What did he say? Natsha, how glad I am you’re not angry with me! Tell me everything—the whole truth. What did he say?”

Natsha became thoughtful.