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ssential。 “On Tuesday between eight and nine。 It will give me great pleasure。”
Boris promised to do so； and was about to enter into conversation with her； when Anna Pavlovna drew him aside on the pretext that her aunt wished to hear his story。
“You know her husband； of course？” said Anna Pavlovna； dropping her eyelids； and with a melancholy gesture indicating Ellen。 “Ah； such an unhappy and exquisite woman！ Don’t speak of him before her； pray； don’t speak of him。 It’s too much for her！”
Chapter 7
WHEN BORIS AND ANNA PAVLOVNA returned to the rest； Prince Ippolit was in possession of the ear of the company。 Bending forward in his low chair； he was saying：
“The King of Prussia！” and as he said it； he laughed。 Every one turned towards him。 “The King of Prussia；” Ippolit said interrogatively； and again he laughed and again settled himself placidly and seriously in the depths of his big； low chair。 Anna Pavlovna paused a little for him； but as Ippolit seemed quite certainly not intending to say more； she began to speak of how the godless Bonaparte had at Potsdam carried off the sword of Frederick the Great。
“It is the sword of Frederick the Great； which I …” she was beginning； but Ippolit interrupted her with the words：
“The King of Prussia …” and again as soon as all turned to listen to him； he excused himself and said no more。 Anna Pavlovna frowned。 Mortemart； Ippolit’s friend； addressed him with decision：
“Come； what are you after with your King of Prussia？”
Ippolit laughed as though he were ashamed of his own laughter。
“No； it’s nothing。 I only meant …” （He had intended to repeat a joke that he had heard in Vienna and had been trying all the evening to get in。） “I only meant that we are wrong to make war for the King of Prussia。”
Boris smiled circumspectly； a smile that might do duty either for a sneer or a tribute to the jest； according to the way it was received。 Every one laughed。
“It is too bad； your joke； very witty but unjust；” said Anna Pavlovna； shaking her little wrinkled finger at him。 “We are not making war for the sake of the King of Prussia； but for the sake of right principles。 Ah； le méchant； ce Prince Hippolyte！” she said。
The conversation did not flag all the evening； and turned principally upon the political news。 Towards the end of the evening it became particularly eager； when the rewards bestowed by the Tsar were the subjects of discussion。
“Why； last year N。N。 received the snuff…box with the portrait；” said the man of profound intellect。 “Why shouldn’t S。 S。 receive the same reward？”
“I beg your pardon； a snuff…box with the Emperor’s portrait is a reward； but not a distinction；” said a diplomatist。 “A present； rather。”
“There are precedents。 I would instance Schwartzenberg。”
“It is impossible；” retorted another。
“A bet on it。 The ribbon of the order is different。”
When every one got up to take leave； Ellen； who had said very little all the evening； turned to Boris again with a request； and a caressing； impressive command that he would come to her on Tuesday。
“It is of great importance to me；” she said with a smile； looking round at Anna Pavlovna； and Anna Pavlovna； with the same mournful smile with which she accompanied any reference to her royal patroness； gave her support to Ellen’s wishes。 It appeared that from some words Boris had uttered that evening about the Prussian army Ellen had suddenly discovered the absolute necessity of seeing him。 She seemed to promise him that when he came on Tuesday she would disclose to him that necessity。 When Boris entered Ellen’s magnificent reception…room on Tuesday evening he received no clear explanation of the urgent reasons for his visit。 Other guests were present； the countess talked little to him； and only as he kissed her hand at taking leave； with a strangely unsmiling face； she whispered to him unexpectedly：
“Come to dinner to…morrow … in the evening … you must come … come。”
During that stay in Petersburg Boris was constantly at the house of the Countess Bezuhov on a footing of the closest intimacy。
Chapter 8
WAR had broken out and the theatre of it was closer to the borders of Russia。 On all sides could be heard curses upon the enemy of the human race； Bonaparte； in the villages there were levies of recruits and reserve men； and from the theatre of war came news of the most conflicting kind； false as usual； and hence variously interpreted。
The life of the old Prince Bolkonsky； of Prince Andrey； and of Princess Marya was greatly changed since the year 1805。
In 1806 the old prince had been appointed one of the eight commanders…in…chief； created at that time for the equipment of the militia throughout all Russia。 In spite of his weakness and age； which had been particularly noticeable during the time when he believed his son to have been killed； the old prince did not think it right to refuse a duty to which he had been appointed by the Emperor himself； and this new field for his activity gave him fresh energy and strength。 He was continually away on tours about the three provinces that were put under his command； he was punctilious to pedantry in the performance of his duties； severe to cruelty with his subordinates； and entered into the minutest details of the work himself。 Princess Marya no longer took lessons in mathematics from her father； and only went into her father’s room on the mornings when he was at home； accompanied by the wet nurse and little Prince Nikolay （as his grandfather called him）。 The baby； Prince Nikolay； with his wet nurse and the old nurse Savishna； occupied the rooms that had been his mother’s； and Princess Marya spent most of her time in the nursery taking a mother’s place to her little nephew； to the best of her powers。 Mademoiselle Bourienne； too； appeared to be passionately fond of the child； and Princess Marya often sacrificed herself by giving up to her friend the pleasure of dandling and playing with the little angel （as she called the baby）。
Near the altar of the church at Bleak Hills was a little chapel over the tomb of the little princess； and in the chapel had been placed a marble monument brought from Italy； representing an angel with its wings parted about to take flight for heaven。 The angel had the upper lip lifted as though about to smile； and one day Prince Andrey and Princess Marya； as they came out of the chapel； confessed to one another that； strange to say； the face of the angel reminded them of the face of the little princess。 But what was stranger； though this Prince Andrey did not confess to his sister； was that in the expression the sculptor had chanced to put into the angel’s face； Prince Andrey read the same words of reproach which he had read then on the face of his dead wife： “Ah； why have you done this to me？ …”
Soon after Prince Andrey’s return； the old prince made over a part of the property to him； giving him Bogutcharovo； a large estate about thirty miles from Bleak Hills。 Partly to escape the painful memories associated with Bleak Hills； partly because Prince Andrey did not always feel equal to bearing with his father’s peculiarities； and partly from a craving for solitude； Prince Andrey made use of Bogu