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“Ah； I’m afraid for her； I’m afraid；” said the countess； not remembering with whom she was speaking。 Her motherly instinct told her that there was too much of something in Natasha； and that it would prevent her being happy。
Natasha had not finished singing when fourteen…year…old Petya ran in great excitement into the room to announce the arrival of the mummers。
Natasha stopped abruptly。
“Idiot！” she screamed at her brother。 She ran to a chair； sank into it； and broke into such violent sobbing that it was a long while before she could stop。
“It’s nothing； mamma； it’s nothing really； it’s all right； Petya startled me；” she said； trying to smile； but the tears still flowed； and the sobs still choked her。
The mummers—house…serfs dressed up as bears； Turks； tavern…keepers； and ladies—awe…inspiring or comic figures； at first huddled shyly together in the vestibule； bringing in with them the freshness of the cold outside； and a feeling of gaiety。 Then； hiding behind one another； they crowded together in the big hall； and at first with constraint； but afterwards with more liveliness and unanimity； they started singing songs； and performing dances； and songs with dancing； and playing Christmas games。 The countess after identifying them； and laughing at their costumes； went away to the drawing…room。 Count Ilya Andreitch sat with a beaming smile in the big hall； praising their performances。 The young people had disappeared。
Half an hour later there appeared in the hall among the other mummers an old lady in a crinoline—this was Nikolay。 Petya was a Turkish lady； Dimmler was a clown； Natasha a hussar； and Sonya a Circassian with eyebrows and moustaches smudged with burnt cork。
After those of the household who were not dressed up had expressed condescending wonder and approval； and had failed to recognise them； the young people began to think their costumes so good that they must display them to some one else。
Nikolay； who wanted to drive them all in his sledge； as the road was in capital condition； proposed to drive to their so…called uncle’s； taking about a dozen of the house…serfs in their mummer…dress with them。
“No； why should you disturb the old fellow？” said the countess。 “Besides you wouldn’t have room to turn round there。 If you must go； let it be to the Melyukovs’。”
Madame Melyukov was a widow with a family of children of various ages； and a number of tutors and governesses living in her house； four versts from the Rostovs’。
“That’s a good idea； my love；” the old count assented； beginning to be aroused。 “Only let me dress up and I’ll go with you。 I’ll make Pashette open her eyes。”
But the countess would not agree to the count’s going； for several days he had had a bad leg。 It was decided that the count must not go； but that if Luisa Ivanovna （Madame Schoss） would go with them； the young ladies might go to Madame Melyukov’s。 Sonya； usually so shy and reticent； was more urgent than any in persuading Luisa Ivanovna not to refuse。
Sonya’s disguise was the best of all。 Her moustaches and eyebrows were extraordinarily becoming to her。 Every one told her she looked very pretty； and she was in a mood of eager energy unlike her。 Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be sealed； and in her masculine attire she seemed quite another person。 Luisa Ivanovna consented to go； and half an hour later four sledges with bells drove up to the steps； their runners crunching； with a clanging sound； over the frozen snow。
Natasha was foremost in setting the tone of holiday gaiety； and that gaiety； reflected from one to another； grew wilder and wilder； and reached its climax when they all went out into the frost； and talking； and calling to one another； laughing and shouting； got into the sledges。
Two of the sledges were the common household sledges； the third was the old count’s； with a trotting horse from Orlov’s famous stud； the fourth； Nikolay’s own； with his own short； shaggy； raven horse in the shafts。 Nikolay； in his old lady’s crinoline and a hussar’s cloak belted over it； stood up in the middle of the sledge picking up the reins。 It was so light that he could see the metal discs of the harness shining in the moonlight； and the eyes of the horses looking round in alarm at the noise made by the party under the portico of the approach。
Sonya； Natasha； Madame Schoss； and two maids got into Nikolay’s sledge。 In the count’s sledge were Dimmler with his wife and Petya； the other mummers were seated in the other two sledges。
“You go ahead； Zahar！” shouted Nikolay to his father’s coachman； so as to have a chance of overtaking him on the road。
The count’s sledge with Dimmler and the others of his party started forward； its runners creaking as though they were frozen to the snow； and the deep…toned bell clanging。 The trace…horses pressed close to the shafts and sticking in the snow kicked it up； hard and glittering as sugar。
Nikolay followed the first sledge： behind him he heard the noise and crunch of the other two。 At first they drove at a slow trot along the narrow road。 As they drove by the garden； the shadows of the leafless trees often lay right across the road and hid the bright moonlight。 But as soon as they were out of their grounds； the snowy plain； glittering like a diamond with bluish lights in it； lay stretched out on all sides； all motionless and bathed in moonlight。 Now and again a hole gave the first sledge a jolt； the next was jolted in just the same way； and the next； and the sledges followed one another； rudely breaking the iron…bound stillness。
“A hare’s track； a lot of tracks！” Natasha’s voice rang out in the frost…bound air。
“How light it is； Nikolenka；” said the voice of Sonya。
Nikolay looked round at Sonya； and bent down to look at her face closer。 It was a quite new； charming face with black moustaches； and eyebrows that peeped up at him from the sable fur—so close yet so distant—in the moonlight。
“That used to be Sonya；” thought Nikolay。 He looked closer at her and smiled。
“What is it； Nikolenka？”
“Nothing；” he said； and turned to his horses again。
As they came out on the trodden highroad； polished by sledge runners； and all cut up by the tracks of spiked horseshoes visible in the snow in the moonlight—the horses of their own accord tugged at the reins and quickened their pace。 The left trace…horse； arching his head； pulled in jerks at his traces。 The shaft…horse swayed to and fro； pricking up his ears as though to ask： “Are we to begin or is it too soon？” Zahar’s sledge could be distinctly seen； black against the white snow； a long way ahead now； and its deep…toned bell seemed to be getting further away。 They could hear shouts and laughter and talk from his sledge。
“Now then； my darlings！” shouted Nikolay； pulling a rein on one side； and moving his whip hand。 It was only from the wind seeming to blow more freely in their faces； and from the tugging of the pulling trace…horses； quickening their trot； that they saw how fast the sledge was flying along。 Nikolay looked behind。 The other sledges； with crunching runners； with shouts； and cracking of whips； were hurrying after them。 Their shaft…horse was moving vigorously under the y