brother-in-law in her name to
leave Moscow and not dare to let her set eyes on him again. Pierre--only
now realizing the danger to the old count, Nicholas, and Prince
Andrew--promised to do as she wished. Having briefly and exactly
explained her wishes to him, she let him go to the drawing room.

"Mind, the count knows nothing. Behave as if you know nothing either,"
she said. "And I will go and tell her it is no use expecting him! And
stay to dinner if you care to!" she called after Pierre.

Pierre met the old count, who seemed nervous and upset. That morning
Natasha had told him that she had rejected Bolkonski.

"Troubles, troubles, my dear fellow!" he said to Pierre. "What troubles
one has with these girls without their mother! I do so regret having
come here.... I will be frank with you. Have you heard she has broken
off her engagement without consulting anybody? It's true this engagement
never was much to my liking. Of course he is an excellent man, but
still, with his father's disapproval they wouldn't have been happy, and
Natasha won't lack suitors. Still, it has been going on so long, and
to take such a step without father's or mother's consent! And now she's
ill, and God knows what! It's hard, Count, hard to manage daughters in
their mother's absence...."

Pierre saw that the count was much upset and tried to change the
subject, but the count returned to his troubles.

Sonya entered the room with an agitated face.

"Natasha is not quite well; she's in her room and would like to see you.
Marya Dmitrievna is with her and she too asks you to come."

"Yes, you are a great friend of Bolkonski's, no doubt she wants to send
him a message," said the count. "Oh dear! Oh dear! How happy it all
was!"

And clutching the spare gray locks on his temples the count left the
room.

When Marya Dmitrievna told Natasha that Anatole was married, Natasha
did not wish to believe it and insisted on having it confirmed by Pierre
himself. Sonya told Pierre this as she led him along the corridor to
Natasha's room.

Natasha, pale and stern, was sitting beside Marya Dmitrievna, and her
eyes, glittering feverishly, met Pierre with a questioning look the
moment he entered. She did not smile or nod, but only gazed fixedly at
him, and her look asked only one thing: was he a friend, or like the
others an enemy in regard to Anatole? As for Pierre, he evidently did
not exist for her.

"He knows all about it," said Marya Dmitrievna po