NEXT DAY, by the advice of Marya Dmitryevna, Count Ilya Andreitch went with Natasha to call on Prince Nikolay Andreitch. The count prepared for the visit by no means in a cheerful spirit: in his heart he was afraid. Count Ilya Andreitch had a vivid recollection of his last interview with the old prince at the time of the levying of the militia, when, in reply to his invitation to dinner, he had had to listen to a heated reprimand for furnishing less than the required number of men. Natasha in her best dress was, on the contrary, in the most cheerful frame of mind. “They can't help liking me,” she thought; “every one always does like me. And I'm so ready to do anything they please for them, so readily to love them—him for being his father, and her for being his sister—they can have no reason for not loving me!”

They drove to the gloomy old house in Vosdvizhenka, and went into the vestibule.

“Well now, with God's blessing,” said the count, half in jest, half in earnest. But Natasha noticed that her father was in a nervous fidget as he went into the entry, and asked timidly and softly whether the prince and the princess were at home. After their arrival had been announced, there was some perturbation visible among the prince's servants. The footman, who was running to announce them, was stopped by another footman in the big hall, and they whispered together. A maid-servant ran into the hall, and hurriedly said something, mentioning the princess. At last one old footman came out with a wrathful air, and announced to the Rostovs that the prince was not receiving, but the princess begged them to walk up. The first person to meet the visitors was Mademoiselle Bourienne. She greeted the father and daughter with marked courtesy, and conducted them to the princess's apartment. The princess, with a frightened and agitated face, flushed in patches, ran in, treading heavily, to meet her visitors, doing her best to seem cordial and at ease. From the first glance Princess Marya disliked Natasha. She thought her too fashionably dressed, too frivolously gay and vain. Princess Marya had no idea that before she had seen her future sister-in-law she had been unfavourably disposed to her, through unconscious envy of her beauty, her youth, and her happiness, and through jealousy of her brother's love for her. Apart from this insuperable feeling of antipathy to her, Princess Marya was at that moment agitated by the fact that on the Rostovs' having been announced the old prince had shouted that he didn't want to see them, that Princess Marya could see them if she chose, but they were not to be allowed in to see him. Princess Marya resolved to see the Rostovs, but she was every instant in dread of some freak on the part of the old prince, as he had appeared greatly excited by the arrival of the Rostovs.

“Well, here I have brought you my songstress, princess,” said the count, bowing and scraping, while he looked round uneasily as though he were afraid the old prince might come in. “How glad I am that you should make friends.…Sorry, very sorry, the prince is still unwell”; and uttering a few more stock phrases, he got up. “If you'll allow me, princess, to leave you my Natasha for a quarter of an hour, I will drive round—only a few steps from here—to Dogs' Square to see Anna Semyonovna, and then come back for her.”

Count Ilya Andreitch bethought himself of this diplomatic stratagem to give the future sisters-in-law greater freedom to express their feelings to one another (so he told his daughter afterwards), but also to avoid the possibility of meeting the prince, of whom he was afraid. He did not tell his daughter this; but Natasha perceived this dread and uneasiness of her father's, and felt mortified by it. She blushed for her father, felt still angrier at having blushed, and glanced at the princess with a bold, challenging air, meant to express that she was not afraid of any one. The princess told the count that she would be delighted, and only begged him to stay a little longer at Anna Semyonovna's, and Ilya Andreitch departed.

In spite of the uneasy glances flung at her by Princess Marya, who wanted to talk to Natasha by herself, Mademoiselle Bourienne would not leave the room, and persisted in keeping up a conversation about Moscow entertainments and theatres. Natasha felt offended by the delay in the entry, by her father's nervousness, and by the constrained manner of the princess, who seemed to her to be making a favour of receiving her. And then everything displeased her. She did not like Princess Marya. She seemed to her very ugly, affected, and frigid. Natasha suddenly, as it were, shrank into herself, and unconsciously assumed a non-chalant air, which repelled Princess Marya more and more. After five minutes of irksome and constrained conversation, they heard the sound of slippered feet approaching rapidly. Princess Marya's face expressed terror: the door of the room opened, and the prince came in, in a white night-cap and dressing-gown.

“Ah, madam,” he began, “madam, countess.…Countess Rostov… if I'm not mistaken…I beg you to excuse me, to excuse me…I didn't know, madam. As God's above, I didn't know that you were deigning to visit us, and came in to my daughter in this costume. I beg you to excuse me…as God's above, I didn't know,” he repeated so unnaturally, with emphasis on the word “God,” and so unpleasantly, that Princess Marya rose to her feet with her eyes on the ground, not daring to look either at her father or at Natasha. Natasha, getting up and curtseying, did not know either what she was to do. Only Mademoiselle Bourienne smiled agreeably.

“I beg you to excuse me, I beg you to excuse me! As God's above, I didn't know,” muttered the old man, and looking Natasha over from head to foot, he went out.

Mademoiselle Bourienne was the first to recover herself after this apparition, and began talking about the prince's ill-health. Natasha and Princess Marya gazed dumbly at one another, and the longer they gazed dumbly at one another without saying what they wanted to say, the more unfavourably each felt disposed to the other.

When the count returned, Natasha showed a discourteous relief at seeing him, and made haste to get away. At that moment she almost hated that stiff, oldish princess, who could put her in such an awkward position, and spend half an hour with her without saying a word about Prince Andrey. “I couldn't be the first to speak of him before that Frenchwoman,” thought Natasha. Princess Marya meanwhile was tortured by the very same feeling. She knew what she had to say to Natasha, but she could not do it, both because Mademoiselle Bourienne prevented her, and because she did not know herself why—it was difficult for her to begin to speak of the marriage. The count was already going out of the room when Princess Marya moved rapidly up to Natasha, took her hand, and, with a heavy sigh, said: “Wait a moment, I want…” Natasha's expression as she looked at Princess Marya was ironical, though she did not know why.

“Dear Natalie,” said Princess Marya, “do believe how glad I am that my brother has found such happiness…” She paused, feeling she was telling a lie. Natasha noticed the pause, and guessed the reason of it.

“I imagine, princess, that it is not now suitable to speak of that,” said Natasha, with external dignity and coldness, though she felt the tears rising in her throat.

“What have I said, what have I done?” she thought as soon as she had gone out of the room.

They had to wait a long while for Natasha to come to dinner that day. She was sitting in her room, crying like a child, choking, and sobbing. Sonya stood over her, and kept kissing her on the head.

“Natasha, what is it?” she kept saying. “Why need you mind about them? It will pass, Natasha.”

“No, if only you knew how insulting it was…as though I…”

“Don't talk of it, Natasha; it's not your fault, you see, so what does it matter to you! Kiss me,” said Sonya.

Natasha raised her head, and kissing her friend on the lips, pressed her wet face against her.

“I can't say; I don't know. It's no one's fault,” said Natasha; “it's my fault. But it's all awfully painful. Oh, why doesn't he come?…”

She went down to dinner with red eyes. Marya Dmitryevna, who had heard how the old prince had received the Rostovs, pretended not to notice Natasha's troubled face, and kept up a loud, jesting conversation at table with the count and the other guests.

次日，伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵听从玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜的劝告，偕同娜塔莎乘车到尼古拉·安德烈伊奇公爵那里去了。伯爵怏怏不乐地准备出去访问，他感到害怕。他和老公爵最后一次相会适值征兵时期，当时他未能如数提供民兵，因此老公爵在回答他的宴请时，厉声呵斥他，他对这次会面记忆犹新。娜塔莎穿了一身华丽的连衣裙，她相反地感到心情愉快。“他们是不会不喜欢我的。”她想道，“人人总是疼爱我的。我心甘情愿地为他们做他们希望我做的一切，因为他是父亲，我心甘情愿地爱他，因为她是妹妹，我也心干情愿地爱她，他们哪能无缘无故地不疼爱我呢！”

他们驶近了弗兹德维仁卡街一幢古旧的阴森森的住宅，走进了外屋。

“啊，祈祷上帝保佑吧，”伯爵有点开玩笑地、有点严肃地说，但是娜塔莎已经发现，她父亲走进接待室时慌张起来，他显得羞怯，低声地问公爵和公爵小姐是不是在家。仆役通报他们到达之后，公爵的仆役们之间出现了一阵慌乱。一名跑去通报的仆役在大厅里被另一名仆役拦阻，他们低声说着什么话。一个丫头跑进了大厅，也着急地说了些什么，提到了公爵小姐。后来有一个怒形于色的老仆役走来禀告罗斯托夫家里人，说公爵不能接见，公爵小姐请他们到她面前去。布里安小姐头一个走出去迎接客人。她分外恭敬地迎接父女二人，领他们去见公爵小姐。公爵小姐脸上泛起了一阵阵红晕，显现出惊惶不安的神色，她迈着沉重的脚步跑出去迎接客人，但是她徒然装出一副无拘无束的、待人周到的好客的样子。公爵小姐玛丽亚乍一看来不喜欢娜塔莎。她好像觉得她的装束过分讲究，显得快活而轻浮，很慕虚荣。公爵小姐玛丽亚不知道，在她尚未看见未来的嫂嫂之前，她因为情不自禁地妒嫉她的姿色、年轻和幸福，又因为忌妒她哥哥对她的爱情，所以她已经对她怀有恶意了。除开这种不可克服的反感，公爵小姐玛丽亚这时候还感到激动不安，当仆人通报罗斯托夫家里人来访的这一瞬间、公爵叫喊起来，说他无须乎会见他们，如果公爵小姐玛丽亚愿意的话，就叫她去接见好了，他不允许他们去见他。公爵小姐玛丽亚决定接见罗斯托夫家里人，但是她时刻担心，深怕公爵表现出乖常行为，由于罗斯托夫家里人的来访，他似乎显得非常激动。

“可爱的公爵小姐，您瞧！我给您带来了我的歌手。”伯爵说，一面并脚致礼，一面不安地回头观看，好像他害怕老公爵会走过来，“你们互相认识了，我多么高兴，公爵老是生病，很遗憾，很遗憾。”他还说了几句一般的话，便站起来，“如果允许的话，我把娜塔莎留给您照管一刻钟，我到养狗场安娜·谢苗诺夫娜那里去一趟，离这里很近，只有几步路远，之后我来接她。”伊利亚·安德烈伊奇想出了这套外交手腕，其目的无非是给未来的小姑和嫂嫂留有谈话的余地（后来他把这桩事告诉她女儿），其目的无非是避免碰见他所惧怕的公爵。他没有把这件事告诉他女儿，但是娜塔莎明白父亲的恐惧心理和急躁情绪，她觉得自己受到了侮辱。她为父亲而面红耳赤，因为面红耳赤而愈益气恼，她用她那大胆的挑衅的目光朝公爵小姐瞟了一眼，那目光仿佛是说，她是不害怕任何人的。公爵小姐告诉了伯爵，说她觉得很高兴，并且请他在安娜·谢苗诺夫娜那里多待一阵子，伊利亚·安德烈伊奇于是就走了。

尽管公爵小姐玛丽亚希望单独地跟娜塔莎谈谈话，她一面用那焦虑不安的目光投射在布里安小姐身上，但是布里安小姐还是没有从房里出来，她不改变话题，一个劲儿谈莫斯科的娱乐和剧院。娜塔莎的父亲在接待室里心慌意乱，局促不安，而且公爵小姐的腔调听来很不自然，娜塔莎因而感到受了侮辱，她觉得公爵小姐好像开恩似的接见了她。因此，什么都不能使她悦意。她不喜欢公爵小姐玛丽亚。她仿佛觉得她很不好看，既虚伪而冷淡。娜塔莎忽然精神萎靡不振，说话时带着不太客气的腔调，这就使得她和公爵小姐玛丽亚更疏远了。经过五分钟阴郁的虚伪的谈话之后可以听见飞快走来的步履声。公爵小姐玛丽亚的脸上现出惊恐的神色，房门敞开了，公爵戴着一顶白色的睡帽，穿着一件长罩衫走进来了。

“啊，小姐，”他开口说，“小姐，伯爵小姐，……伯爵小姐罗斯托娃，如果我没有搞错的话……请您原谅，请原谅……伯爵小姐，我不知道。上帝明鉴，我不知道您光临寒舍，我穿这样的衣裳来看女儿了，请原谅……上帝明鉴，我不知道。”他很不自然地重说一遍，强调“上帝”这个词，那样令人不痛快，以致公爵小姐玛丽亚垂下眼帘站在那儿，既不敢瞧瞧父亲，也不敢瞧瞧娜塔莎。娜塔莎站起来，行屈膝礼，她也不晓得应该怎么办。唯独布里安小姐面露愉快的微笑。

“请您原谅，请原谅！上帝明鉴，我不知道，”老头儿嘟嘟哝哝地说，他从头到脚把娜塔莎打量了一番，然后走出去了。在发生这种情况后，布里安小姐头一个想到了应对的办法，她开始说到公爵的身体欠佳。娜塔莎和公爵小姐玛丽亚沉默无言地面面相觑，她们沉默无言地面面相觑得越久，不说出她们应该说的话，她们就越发不怀好意地互相猜度。

当伯爵回来以后，娜塔莎在他面前无礼貌地高兴起来，急急忙忙地离开；这时她几乎仇视那个年岁大的、干巴巴的公爵小姐，她会把她弄得狼狈不堪，关于安德烈公爵，她一言不发，和她在一块就这样待上半个钟头了，“要知道，我不会在这个法国女人面前首先谈到他。”娜塔莎想道。与此同时，公爵小姐玛丽亚也为这件事觉得难受。她知道她应该向娜塔莎说些什么话，但是她不能这样做，因为布里安小姐妨碍她，因为她自己也不知道，她为什么谈起这桩婚事时心里就那么难受。当伯爵从房里走出去，公爵小姐玛丽亚便迈开疾速的脚步，走到娜塔莎跟前，握住她的一双手，沉重地叹一口气说：“等一等，我要……”娜塔莎连她自己也不知道在讥笑什么，她讥笑地瞧着公爵小姐玛丽亚。

“可爱的娜塔莉，”公爵小姐玛丽亚说：“您可知道，我哥哥找到了幸福，我感到高兴……”她停下来了，觉得她在说谎话。娜塔莎发现她停顿一下，猜中了她稍事停顿的原因。

“我想，公爵小姐，现在说这件事很不方便。”娜塔莎说，她表面上尊严而且冷淡，但是她觉得眼泪已涌向喉头。

“我说了什么，我做了什么！”她刚走出房门，就这么想。

这天他们等候娜塔莎出来吃午饭，等了很久。她坐在自己房里，像孩儿一样嚎啕大哭，她一面擤鼻涕，一面呜咽。索尼娅站在她身旁，吻她的头发。

“娜塔莎，你哭什么？”她说。“你与他们何干？娜塔莎，什么都会过去的。……”

“不，若是你知道，这多么令人气恼……正像我这样……”

“娜塔莎，你别说，要知道你没有过失，这与你有什么关系？吻吻我吧。”索尼娅说。

娜塔莎抬起头来，吻吻她的女友的嘴唇，把那被泪水沾湿的脸贴在她身上。

“我不能说，我不晓得。谁也没有罪过，”娜塔莎说，“我有过错，但是这一切非常可怕啦。哎，他怎么没有来啊！

……”

她两眼通红地出来用午饭。玛丽亚·德米特里耶夫娜知道公爵怎样接待罗斯托夫家里人，她假装没有发觉娜塔莎那种扫兴的脸色，在进午餐的时候她和伯爵与其他客人不停顿地、大声地说笑。