COUNT ILYA ANDREITCH had given up being a marshal of nobility, because that position involved too heavy an expenditure. But his difficulties were not removed by that. Often Natasha and Nikolay knew of uneasy, private consultations between their parents, and heard talk of selling the sumptuous ancestral house of the Rostovs and the estate near Moscow. When the count was no longer marshal it was not necessary to entertain on such a large scale, and they led a quieter life at Otradnoe than in former years. But the immense house and the lodges were still full of people; more than twenty persons still sat down to table with them. These were all their own people, time-honoured inmates of their household, almost members of the family, or persons who must, it seemed, inevitably live in the count's house. Such were Dimmler, the music-master, and his wife; Vogel the dancing-master, with his family; an old Madame Byelov, and many others besides; Petya's tutors, the girls' old governess, and persons who simply found it better or more profitable to live at the count's than in a house of their own. They did not entertain so many guests as before, but they still lived in that manner, apart from which the count and countess could not have conceived of life at all. There was still the same hunting establishment, increased indeed by Nikolay. There were still the same fifty horses and fifteen grooms in the stables; the same costly presents on name-days, and ceremonial dinners to the whole neighbourhood. There were still the count's games of whist and boston, at which, letting every one see his cards, he allowed himself to be plundered every day of hundreds by his neighbours, who looked upon the privilege of making up a rubber with Count Ilya Andreitch as a profitable investment.

The count went into his affairs as though walking into a huge net, trying not to believe that he was entangled, and at every step getting more and more entangled, and feeling too feeble either to tear the nets that held him fast, or with care and patience to set about disentangling them. The countess with her loving heart felt that her children were being ruined, that the count was not to blame, that he could not help being what he was, that he was distressed himself (though he tried to conceal it) at the consciousness of his own and his children's ruin, and was seeking means to improve their position. To her feminine mind only one way of doing so occurred—that was, to marry Nikolay to a wealthy heiress. She felt that this was their last hope, and that if Nikolay were to refuse the match she had found for him she must bid farewell for ever to all chance of improving their position. This match was Julie Karagin, the daughter of excellent and virtuous parents, known to the Rostovs from childhood, and now left a wealthy heiress by the death of her last surviving brother.

The countess wrote directly to Madame Karagin in Moscow, suggesting to her the marriage of her daughter to her own son, and received a favourable reply from her. Madame Karagin replied that she was quite ready for her part to consent to the match, but everything must depend on her daughter's inclinations. Madame Karagin invited Nikolay to come to Moscow. Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, had told her son that now that both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see him married. She said that she could rest quietly in her grave if this were settled. Then she would say that she had an excellent girl in her eye, and would try and get from him his views on matrimony.

On other occasions she praised Julie and advised Nikolay to go to Moscow for the holidays to amuse himself a little. Nikolay guessed what his mother's hints were aiming at, and on one such occasion he forced her to complete frankness. She told him plainly that all hope of improving their position rested now on his marrying Julie Karagin.

“What, if I loved a girl with no fortune would you really desire me, mamma, to sacrifice my feeling and my honour for the sake of money?” he asked his mother, with no notion of the cruelty of his question, but simply wishing to show his noble sentiments.

“No; you misunderstand me,” said his mother, not knowing how to retrieve her mistake. “You misunderstand me, Nikolenka. It is your happiness I wish for,” she added, and she felt she was speaking falsely, that she was blundering. She burst into tears.

“Mamma, don't cry, and only tell me that you wish it, and you know that I would give my whole life, everything for your peace of mind,” said Nikolay; “I will sacrifice everything for you, even my feelings.”

But the countess did not want the question put like that; she did not want to receive sacrifices from her son, she would have liked to sacrifice herself to him.

“No; you don't understand me, don't let us talk of it,” she said, wiping away her tears.

“Yes, perhaps I really do love a poor girl,” Nikolay said to himself; “what, am I to sacrifice my feeling and my honour for fortune? I wonder how mamma could say such a thing. Because Sonya is poor I must not love her,” he thought; “I must not respond to her faithful, devoted love. And it is certain I should be happier with her than with any doll of a Julie. To sacrifice my feelings for the welfare of my family I can always do,” he said to himself, “but I can't control my feelings. If I love Sonya, that feeling is more than anything and above anything for me.”

Nikolay did not go to Moscow, the countess did not renew her conversations with him about matrimony, and with grief, and sometimes with exasperation, saw symptoms of a growing attachment between her son and the portionless Sonya. She blamed herself for it, yet could not refrain from scolding and upbraiding Sonya, often reproving her without cause and addressing her as “my good girl.” What irritated the kind-hearted countess more than anything was that this poor, dark-eyed niece was so meek, so good, so devoutly grateful to her benefactors, and so truly, so constantly, and so unselfishly in love with Nikolay that it was impossible to find any fault with her.

Nikolay went on spending his term of leave with his parents. From Prince Andrey a fourth letter had been received from Rome. In it he wrote that he would long ago have been on his way back to Russia, but that in the warm climate his wound had suddenly re-opened, which would compel him to defer his return till the beginning of the new year. Natasha was as much in love with her betrothed, as untroubled in her love, and as ready to throw herself into all the pleasures of life as ever. But towards the end of the fourth month of their separation she began to suffer from fits of depression, against which she was unable to contend. She felt sorry for herself, sorry that all this time should be wasted and be of no use to any one, while she felt such capacity for loving and being loved.

Life was not gay in the Rostovs' household.

伊利亚·安德烈伊寄伯爵已辞去首席贵族的职位，因为这个职位的花费巨大。可是他的景况一直未见好转。娜塔莎和尼古拉常常看见双亲激动不安地私下商议，常常听见有关出售罗斯托夫祖遗的豪华住宅和莫斯科近郊的地产的传言。既已辞去首席贵族的职位，就毋须接待众多的客人，因此奥特拉德诺耶的生活较诸往年更清静了；然而这栋高大的住宅和厢房仍旧住满了人，家里仍然常有二十余人用餐。他们都是一些在家里住惯了的亲人，几乎全是家庭成员，或者是一些似乎必须在罗斯托夫伯爵家里居住的人。这些人中有乐师季姆勒及其妻子、舞蹈教师约格尔及其眷属、经年住在家里的老小姐别洛娃，尚有其他许多人：彼佳的几个教师、小姐们从前的家庭女教师、那些只认为住在伯爵家里比住在自己家里更舒适更有利的人。此时的光景与昔日不同，门前的车马稀少了，但是生活的进程与昔时无异，不如此伯爵与伯爵夫人就不能设想怎样继续活下去。猎事依然如故，而且尼古拉扩大了它的规模，马厩里仍然有五十匹马和十五名马车夫，命名日里仍旧馈赠珍贵的礼品，举行盛大的宴会，藉以款待全县的佳宾；伯爵家中照常打纸牌——惠斯特牌和波士顿牌，他让大家看见他发牌，天天让邻座赌赢几百卢布，而邻座则把同伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵打牌视为一笔可观的进款。

伯爵经营自己的产业，就像陷入巨大的捕兽网那样，他竭力想要自己不相信他给缠住了，可是他每走一步，就给缠得更紧，感到自己既不能撕破把它缠住的网子，也不能小心地、忍耐地着手把它解开来。伯爵夫人怀有抚爱之心，她意识到她的孩子们都要破产，伯爵没有什么过错，他不能不像现在这样做人，因为他也意识到他和他的孩子们都要破产，所以他本人感到痛苦（虽然他把这一点加以隐瞒），她正在寻找有济于事的办法。从她这个妇女的观点出发，她的办法只有一套，就是叫尼古拉娶一个富有的未婚女子。她也意识到这是最后一线希望，假如尼古拉拒绝她给他找到的配偶，那么就要永远放弃改善境况的机会。这个配偶即是朱莉·卡拉金娜，她的父母都是极好的、道德高尚的人，从童年时代起，罗斯托夫一家人就认识她，现正因为她的最后一个兄弟已经辞世，她成为有钱的及笄的姑娘了。

伯爵夫人直接给莫斯科的卡拉金娜写信，向她提出她的女儿和她儿子的婚事，并且获得她的同意的答复。卡拉金娜在回信中说她自己是同意的，但这件事完全取决于她的女儿的心意。卡拉金娜邀请尼古拉到莫斯科去做客。

伯爵夫人有几次眼睛里噙着泪水对儿子说，她的两个女儿都已安排出阁，现在她的唯一的愿望，就是要亲眼看见他娶妻。她说只要办成这件事，她躺在棺材里也会安心的。后来她又说，她看中了一个极好的姑娘，要向他探问一下他对这门婚事的意见。

在其他几次谈话中，她夸耀朱莉，并且劝他去莫斯科度假，快活一阵子。尼古拉心里猜测，他母亲的这几次谈话的用意何在，后来在一次谈话中，他使母亲说出心里话。她向他直言，目前改善境遇的全部希望寄托在他和卡拉金娜的这门婚事上。

“如果我爱一个没有财产的姑娘，那又怎样呢，妈妈，难道您要我为着财产而牺牲情感和荣誉么？”他问她母亲，但不明白他提出的这个问题的严峻，他只想显示一下自己的高尚情操。

“不，你不了解我，”母亲说，但她不知道怎样替自己辩护。“尼古连卡，你不了解我。我希望你活得幸福。”她补充说，并且感觉到她所说的不是实话，她已经现出窘态，她哭了起来。

“妈妈，您别哭，您只要告诉我，希望这么办，您也知道，为了要您心地安宁，我可以献出我的生命，献出我的一切，”尼古拉说，“我可以为您牺牲一切，甚至牺牲自己的感情。”

但是伯爵夫人不愿意这样提出问题：她不希望自己的儿子作了牺牲，而她自己倒希望为他而作出牺牲。

“不，你不了解我，我们不要谈了。”她揩眼泪时说道。

“是啊，也许我真的爱一个贫苦的姑娘，”尼古拉自言自语地说，“怎么，我要为财产而牺牲爱情和荣誉吗？我觉得惊讶的是，母亲怎么会对我说出这种话。因为索尼娅贫穷，我就不能爱她了，”他想道，“就不能回报她那始终如一的忠诚的爱情。真的，我和她在一起，比同什么朱莉这种玩物在一起更加幸福。我不能强制自己的感情，”他对自己说，“如果我爱索尼娅，对我来说，我的爱情比一切都更强烈，都更崇高。”

尼古拉没有到莫斯科去，伯爵夫人不再跟他谈到结婚的事情，她很忧愁地、有时愤恨地看见她儿子和没有嫁妆的索尼娅越来越接近的迹象。她为此而责备自己，但是她不能不唠叨，不能不挑剔索尼娅，常常无缘无故地把她拦住，用“您”与“我可爱的”来称呼她。这个善良的伯爵夫人为此事而对索尼娅大发脾气，这个贫穷的黑眼睛的外甥女是如此温顺、仁慈、无限忠诚，对自己的恩人们怀有感激之情，而且如此忠贞、始终不渝、自我牺牲地钟爱尼古拉，对她简直是无可指责的。

尼古拉在父母身边快要度完自己的假期。他们收到了未婚男子安德烈公爵自罗马寄来的第四封信，他在信中写到，如果不是在温暖的气候中他的伤口突然裂开，以致他不得不将行期推迟至来年年初的话，他早已在回归俄国的路上了。娜塔莎仍然钟爱她的未婚夫，仍旧由于这种爱情而感到安慰，她对生活中的一切欢乐依旧十分敏感；可是在娜塔莎和他离别的第四个月月底，就有一种她不能克服的忧愁开始一阵阵向她袭来，她在怜悯她自己，她觉得遗憾的是，她不为任何人白白地糟踏了时光，在这段时间她觉得她能够钟爱他人和被人钟爱。

罗斯托夫家中笼罩着怏怏不乐的气氛。