He looked round at his cousin and the young
lady visitor; both looked at him with a smile of approval.
“Schubert’s
dining with us to-night, the colonel of the Pavologradsky regiment of hussars.
He has been here on leave, and is taking him with him. There’s no help for it,”
said the count, shrugging his shoulder and speaking playfully of what evidently
was a source of much distress to him.
“I’ve told you
already, papa,” said his son, “that if you’re unwilling to let me go, I’ll
stay. But I know I’m no good for anything except in the army. I’m not a
diplomatist, or a government clerk. I’m not clever at disguising my feelings,”
he said, glancing repeatedly with the coquetry of handsome youth at Sonya and
the young lady.
The kitten, her eyes riveted on him, seemed
on the point of breaking into frolic, and showing her cat-like nature.
“Well, well,
it’s all-right!” said the old count; “he always gets so hot. Bonaparte’s turned
all their heads; they’re all dreaming of how he rose from a lieutenant to be an
emperor. Well, and so may it turn out again, please God,” he added, not
noticing the visitor’s sarcastic smile.
While their elders began talking about
Bonaparte, Julie, Madame Karagin’s daughter, turned to young Rostov .
“What a pity
you weren’t at the Arharovs’ on Thursday. I was so dull without you,” she said,
giving him a tender smile. The youth, highly flattered, moved with a coquettish
smile nearer her, and entered into a conversation apart with the smiling Julie,
entirely unaware that his unconscious smile had dealt a jealous stab to the
heart of Sonya, who was flushing crimson and assuming a forced smile. In the
middle of his talk with Julie he glanced round at her. Sonya gave him an
intensely furious look, and, hardly able to restrain her tears, though there
was still a constrained smile on her lips, she got up and went out of the room.
All Nikolay’s animation was gone. He waited for the first break in the
conversation, and, with a face of distress, walked out of the room to look for
Sonya.
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