War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [732]
XX
From that first evening, when Natasha, after Pierre’s departure, told Princess Marya with a joyfully mocking smile that he was “just, well, just like from the bathhouse, with his short little frock coat and cropped hair,” from that moment something hidden and unknown to her, but irresistible, had awakened in Natasha’s soul.
Everything—her face, her step, her gaze, her voice—everything suddenly changed in her. Unexpectedly for herself, the force of life, her hopes for happiness, came to the surface and demanded to be satisfied. From the first evening, it was as if Natasha forgot all that had happened to her. After that she never once complained of her situation, said not a word about her past, and was no longer afraid to make cheerful plans for the future. She spoke little of Pierre, but when Princess Marya mentioned him, the long-extinguished brightness lit up in her eyes, and her lips puckered in a strange smile.
The change that took place in Natasha at first surprised Princess Marya but when she understood its meaning, this change upset her. “Can it be that she loved my brother so little, that she could forget him so soon?” Princess Marya thought, when she pondered by herself the change that had taken place. But when she was with Natasha, she was not angry with her and did not reproach her. The awakened force of life that took hold of Natasha was obviously so irrepressible, so unexpected for Natasha herself, that in her presence Princess Marya felt she had no right to reproach her even in her heart.
Natasha gave herself up so fully and sincerely to this new feeling that she did not even attempt to hide the fact that she was now not grieving but joyful and gay.
When Princess Marya returned to her room after her talk that night with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold.
“He said it? Yes? He said it?” she repeated. And a joyful and at the same time pathetic expression, as if asking forgiveness for her joy, lingered on Natasha’s face.
“I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you’d tell me.”
Understandable and touching as she found the gaze with which Natasha looked at her, sorry as she was to see her agitation, for the first moment Natasha’s words offended Princess Marya. She remembered her brother and his love.
“But what’s to be done! She can’t be otherwise,” thought Princess Marya; and with a sad and somewhat stern face, she told Natasha everything Pierre had said to her. On hearing that he was going to Petersburg, Natasha was amazed.
“To Petersburg?” she repeated, as if she did not understand. But, looking intently into the sad expression of Princess Marya’s face, she guessed the reason for that sadness and suddenly began to cry. “Marie,” she said, “teach me what to do. I’m afraid to be bad. I’ll do whatever you say; teach me…”
“You love him?”
“Yes,” Natasha whispered.
“Then why are you crying? I’m happy for you,” said Princess Marya, completely forgiving Natasha’s joy on account of those tears.
“It won’t be soon, but some day. Think what happiness when I’ll be his wife and you’ll have married Nicolas.”
“Natasha, I asked you not to talk about that. Let’s talk about you.”
They were silent for a while.
“Only what’s he going to Petersburg for!” Natasha said suddenly, and hastily answered herself: “No, no, it has to be so…Right, Marie? It has to be so…”
Part One
I
Seven years had passed since 1812. The churned-up historical sea of Europe settled back within its shores. It seemed to have grown still; but the mysterious forces that move mankind (mysterious because the laws that determine their movement are unknown to us) continued their action.
Though the surface of the historical sea seemed immobile, mankind moved as ceaselessly as the movement of time. Various groups of human connections were made and unmade; causes were prepared for the formation and decomposition of states, for the displacements of peoples.
The historical sea did