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her eyes。 At last Mademoiselle Bourienne shrieked and ran away。 With a gay smile Anatole bowed to Princess Marya； as though inviting her to share his amusement at this strange incident； and with a shrug of his shoulders he went to the door that led to his apartment。
An hour later Tihon came to summon Princess Marya to the old prince； and added that Prince Vassily was with him。 When Tihon came to her； Princess Marya was sitting on the sofa in her own room holding in her arms the weeping Mademoiselle Bourienne。 Princess Marya was softly stroking her head。 Her beautiful eyes had regained all their luminous peace； and were gazing with tender love and commiseration at the pretty little face of Mademoiselle Bourienne。
“Oh； princess； I am ruined for ever in your heart；” Mademoiselle Bourienne was saying。
“Why？ I love you more than ever；” said Princess Marya； “and I will try to do everything in my power for your happiness。”
“But you despise me； you who are so pure； you will never understand this frenzy of passion。 Ah； it is only my poor mother …”
“I understand everything；” said Princess Marya； smiling mournfully。 “Calm yourself； my dear。 I am going to my father；” she said； and she went out。
When the princess went in； Prince Vassily was sitting with one leg crossed high over the other； and a snuff…box in his hand。 There was a smile of emotion on his face； and he looked as though moved to such an extreme point that he could but regret and smile at his own sensibility。 He took a hasty pinch of snuff。
“Ah； my dear； my dear！” he said； getting up and taking her by both hands。 He heaved a sigh； and went on： “My son’s fate is in your hands。 Decide； my good dear； sweet Marie； whom I have always loved like a daughter。” He drew back。 There was a real tear in his eye。
“Fr … ffr …” snorted the old prince。 “The prince in his protégé’s … his son’s name makes you a proposal。 Are you willing or not to be the wife of Prince Anatole Kuragin？ You say： yes or no；” he shouted； “and then I reserve for myself the right to express my opinion。 Yes； my opinion； and nothing but my opinion；” added the old prince； to Prince Vassily in response to his supplicating expression； “Yes or no！”
“My wish； mon père； is never to leave you； never to divide my life from yours。 I do not wish to marry；” she said resolutely； glancing with her beautiful eyes at Prince Vassily and at her father。
“Nonsense； fiddlesticks！ Nonsense； nonsense！” shouted the old prince； frowning。 He took his daughter’s hand； drew her towards him and did not kiss her； but bending over； touched her forehead with his； and wrung the hand he held so violently that she winced and uttered a cry。 Prince Vassily got up。
“My dear； let me tell you that this is a moment I shall never forget； never； but； dear； will you not give us a little hope of touching so kind and generous a heart。 Say that perhaps。… The future is so wide。… Say： perhaps。”
“Prince； what I have said is all that is in my heart。 I thank you for the honour you do me； but I shall never be your son’s wife。”
“Well； then it’s all over； my dear fellow。 Very glad to have seen you； very glad to have seen you。 Go to your room； princess； go along now；” said the old prince。 “Very； very glad to have seen you；” he repeated； embracing Prince Vassily。
“My vocation is a different one；” Princess Marya was thinking to herself； “my vocation is to be happy in the happiness of others； in the happiness of love and self…sacrifice。 And at any cost I will make poor Amélie happy。 She loves him so passionately。 She is so passionately penitent。 I will do everything to bring about their marriage。 If he is not rich I will give her means； I will beg my father； I will beg Andrey。 I shall be so happy when she is his wife。 She is so unhappy； a stranger； solitary and helpless！ And； my God； how passionately she must love him to be able to forget herself so。 Perhaps I might have done the same！…” thought Princess Marya。
Chapter 6
IT was a long while since the Rostovs had had news of their Nikolushka。 But in the middle of the winter a letter was handed to Count Rostov； on the envelope of which he recognised his son’s handwriting。 On receiving the letter the count； in alarm and in haste； ran on tiptoe to his room； trying to escape notice； shut himself in and read the letter。 Anna Mihalovna had learned （as she always did learn all that passed in the house） that he had received a letter； and treading softly； she went in to the count and found him with the letter in his hand； sobbing and laughing at once。 Anna Mihalovna； though her fortunes had been looking up； was still an inmate of the Rostov household。
“My dear friend？” Anna Mihalovna brought out in a voice of melancholy inquiry； equally ready for sympathy in any direction。 The count sobbed more violently
“Nikolushka … letter … wounded … he would … my dear … wounded … my darling boy … the little countess … promoted … thank God … how are we to tell the little countess？”
Anna Mihalovna sat down by his side； with her own handkerchief wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter； then dried her own tears； read the letter； soothed the count； and decided that before dinner and before tea she would prepare the countess； and after tea； with God’s help； tell her all。 During dinner Anna Mihalovna talked of the rumours from the war； of dear Nikolay； inquired twice when his last letter had been received； though she knew perfectly well； and observed that they might well be getting a letter from him to…day。 Every time that the countess began to be uneasy under these hints and looked in trepidation from the count to Anna Mihalovna； the latter turned the conversation in the most unnoticeable way to insignificant subjects。 Natasha； who was of all the family the one most gifted with the faculty of catching the shades of intonations； of glances； and expressions； had been on the alert from the beginning of dinner； and was certain that there was some secret between her father and Anna Mihalovna； and that it had something to do with her brother； and that Anna Mihalovna was paving the way for it。 Natasha knew how easily upset her mother was by any references to news from Nikolushka； and in spite of all her recklessness she did not venture at dinner to ask a question。 But she was too much excited to eat any dinner and kept wriggling about on her chair； regardless of the protests of her governess。 After dinner she rushed headlong to overtake Anna Mihalovna； and in the divan…room dashed at her and flung herself on her neck： “Auntie； darling； do tell me what it is。”
“Nothing； my dear。”
“No； darling； sweet； precious peach； I won’t leave off； I know you know something。”
Anna Mihalovna shook her head。 “You are sharp； my child！” she said。
“A letter from Nikolinka？ I’m sure of it！” cried Natasha； reading an affirmative answer on the face of Anna Mihalovna。
“But； for God’s sake； be more careful； you know what a shock it may be to your mamma。”
“I will be； I will； but tell me about it。 You won’t？ Well； then； I’ll run and tell her this minute。”
Anna Mihalovna gave Natasha a brief account of what was in the letter； on condition that she would not tell a