战争与和平

Everyone was silent. The countess looked at the guest with a pleasant smile on her face, but she did not hide the feeling that if the guest stood up and left, she would not feel at all unhappy. The woman's daughter was flattening her dress and looking at her mother with questioning eyes when she heard a group of men and women rushing towards the door and tripping over chairs in the next room. A thirteen-year-old girl ran into the room and covered something with her short gauze skirt. She was in the room. There was a pause. Obviously, she missed her foot while running and jumped so far unexpectedly. At the same moment, a college student with a crimson collar, a guard officer, a fifteen-year-old girl and a plump boy with pink cheeks in a children's jacket appeared at the door.

The count jumped up and swayed along, stretching out his arms and holding the little girl who came in.

"Ah, she's here after all!" He laughed and cried, "People who celebrate the day of naming! Machre, the man who named the day!!

"Machre, ilyauntempspour, tout," said the countess, pretending to be serious. "You always spoil her, Ellie." She added to her husband.

"Bonjour, machre, jevous flicite," said the woman, "Quelledelicieuseenfant! She turned her face to her mother and added.

French: Everything has to have time, dear.

French: Hello, my dear. Congratulations. What a lovely child!

The little girl has black eyes and a big mouth. She is not beautiful but lively. She ran too fast, her straps slipped off, her little shoulders bared, her dark curly hair draped behind her, her bare arms very slender, and she wore a pair of Crocheted trousers and short hammer boots with no laces on her feet. Saying she is a child is not a child, saying she is a girl is not a girl, she is in this wonderful time. She broke away from her father's embrace and went to her mother's side. Her mother scolded her severely for not caring. She hid her face in her mother's lace cloak. She laughed for no reason. She spoke intermittently of the doll she had pulled out from under her dress.

"Did you see that?... A doll... Mimi... You all see it."

Natasha couldn't go on (she thought everything was funny). She fell on her mother and laughed so loudly that everyone, even the over-polite guest, could not help laughing.

"You have to go, go, take this ugly thing with you!" The mother said, pretending to lose her temper and pushing her daughter aside. "This is my little daughter." She turned her face to the woman and said.

Natasha lifted her face from under her mother's lace scarf for a while, looked down at her through tears of laughter, and hid her face again.

Female guests are forced to appreciate this scene in their families and consider it necessary to participate.

"My dear, please tell me," she said, turning her face to Natasha. "Who is this Mimi really? Maybe it's a daughter?

Natasha did not like the tolerant tone with which children were treated, but the female guests spoke to her. Without answering a word, she gave the guest a serious glance.

Meanwhile, the younger generation, officer Boris, son of the Duchess of Anna Mihailovna, university student Nicolas, the eldest man of the count, Sonia, a fifteen-year-old niece of the count, and the youngest son of the count Petrusha Jr., all took their seats in the living room. Obviously, they did their best to keep the excitement and pleasure that still showed on every face within the scope of proper etiquette. Obviously, in the back rooms of the fast-running house, it sounded happier to chat than to talk about the city's slanders, weather and Comtesse Apraksine. Sometimes they stare at each other, and it's not easy for them to stop laughing.

French: Countess Applachina.

Two young people, one is a university student, one is an officer, from childhood is a friend, two people of the same age, and beautiful, but their faces are not the same. Boris was a tall, fair-haired young man, with a quiet, handsome face, well-groomed features and a clear eyebrow. Nicolas was a young man of modest stature, with curly hair and frank facial expressions. His upper lip gradually grew short black beard, his sensitivity and ** showed throughout the face. As soon as Nicolas entered the living room, his cheeks turned red. Obviously, he wanted to talk, but he couldn't find a topic; Boris, on the contrary, thought of a way to deal with it at once, calmly and jokingly talking about the doll Mimi, saying that when he knew her, she was still a little girl, when her nostrils had not been damaged, and he remembered that in the past five years she had grown old. Cracks also appeared on the top. He said this and looked at Natasha. Natasha turned her face and ignored him. She looked at her little brother, who had narrowed her eyes and shivered with no more laughter. She could no longer hold back. She jumped up and sprinted out of the living room with her agile legs open. Boris did not laugh.

"Mom, do you think you're leaving too? Do you want a carriage?" He said to his mother with a smile on his face.

"Well, let's go, let's go, and tell them to get the carriage ready." She said with a smile.

Boris quietly stepped out and followed Natasha. The chubby boy ran after them angrily, as if he had been frustrated and regretful.

Chapter 9

Among the young people, besides the Countess's eldest daughter, who is four years older than her sister and has behaved like an adult, and the visiting lady, there are two remaining young people in the living room, Nicola and Sonia. Sonya was a slender, small and delicate black-haired girl, with gentle eyes under the long eyelashes. A dark and thick braid was placed on her head for two plates. The skin on her face, especially the skin on her bare, thin, muscular and beautiful arms and neck, was slightly yellow. Her smooth movements, small limbs soft and flexible, a little naughty and self-sustaining demeanor, like a beautiful and lovely cat that has not yet matured, it will become a rather charming female cat. Obviously, she thought it was a polite attitude to listen to the conversation with a smile, but her adoring eyes, under her long, thick eyelashes, could not help but watch her coming into the army. Her smile could not deceive anyone at all. Obviously, the kitten squatted down, but Want to jump up more forcefully, like Boris and Natasha rushed out of the living room and played with her cousin.

French: cousin.

"Machre, yes," said the old count, turning his face to the woman and pointing to his Nicolas, "machre, look, his friend Boris has been promoted to an officer. For friendship's sake, he does not want to fall behind Boris, abandon the University and my old man, and go to military service. Someone got him a job in the archives and everything was ready. Isn't that about love? The count said in a questioning tone.

"Yes, some people say that war has been declared." The female guest said.

"Somebody's been talking about it," said the count, "for a while, and for another time, no more. Machre, it's not about love." He repeated what he had said, "Nicholas is going to be a hussar."

The woman shook her head and did not know what to say.

"It's not friendship at all," Nicholas answered, blushing as if he had been slandered in a way that made him ashamed. He defended himself. "It's not friendship at all, it's just the feeling that I have a duty to serve in the military."

He looked back at his cousin and the young lady, both of whom looked at him with a laughing smile.

"Colonel Schubert of Paul's Guerrilla Regiment is here for lunch today. He's here on vacation to take Nicolas away. What's the way to do that?" The count said, shrugging his shoulders, and making a jocular reference to this matter, which apparently deeply distressed him.

"Dad, I've already told you," said the son. "If you don't want to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I'm useless except for military service; I'm not a diplomat, I'm not an official, I'm not good at hiding my feelings, "he said, looking at Sonya and the visiting lady from time to time, in a frivolous fashion.

The kitten kept a close eye on him, ready to play at any time, to show its cat's nature.

"Well, well, great!" The old count said, "Always impatient... Bonaparte was still in a daze. Everyone thought that he had changed from a lieutenant to an emperor. Let's just say God bless you." He added that he did not pay attention to the mocking smiles of the women.

Adults began to talk about Bonaparte. Karakina's daughter Julie turned her face to Rostov Jr. and said:

"I'm sorry you didn't go to Alharov's house on Thursday. You're not here. I feel lonely and bored." She said, giving him a gentle smile.

The young man was proud of flattery and had a flirtatious smile on his face. He sat closer to her. He chatted with the smiling Julie alone. He did not realize that his uncontrollable smile had pierced Sonia's red-eared, smiling heart like a vinegar knife. Nest. In the middle of the gossip, he glanced back at her. Sonya looked at him angrily. It was not easy to resist the tears and the fake smile. She stood up and went out of the room. Nicola's excitement has faded. As soon as he watched the conversation break, he showed a look of disappointment and came out of the room to look for Sonia.

"All these young people's secrets can't be hidden. They'll show their horses!" Anna Mihailovna pointed to Nicolas, who was walking out the door. "CousiBnage-dangereux voisinage," she added.

"Yes," said the countess, as if she had answered a question that had never been asked to her, but which had often engrossed her, "how much suffering and trouble she has endured, and now she can get a little joy from them! But now, to be honest, fear outweighs joy. You are always afraid of this and that, and you are always afraid of this and that. Boys and girls, at this age, will encounter many dangerous things.

"Education is the transfer of everything." The female guest said.

"Yes, you're telling the truth," continued the countess. "Thank God, I'm still a friend of my children, and I have earned their full trust." The Countess said that many parents had made mistakes and I had made them again. They all thought that their children had not hidden their secrets. "I know that I will always be the first confident of my daughters. Nicolas is impatient. If he was naughty (boys can't be naughty), he would not be like these gentlemen in Petersburg. That's the way it looks."

French: Cousins and cousins are terrible relatives.

(2) French: the person who gives the idea.

"Yes, they are all very good, very good children," said the count, who thought that view was quite correct. He often uses the word "good" to deal with problems that he thinks are very complicated. "Come on! He also wants to be a hussar! No matter what you ask for, it won't help, machre!"

"What a lovely girl your little daughter is!" The woman guest said, "Fire-tempered man!"

"Yes, fiery son," said the count, "she is like me! She has a pleasant voice: although she is my son and daughter, I also want to tell the truth. She's going to be a singer and a Salomoni. We delayed an Italian to teach her how to sing.

"Isn't it too early? It is said that learning to sing at this time is not good for her voice."

"Oh, no, it's too early!" The count said, "Hasn't our mother been married since she was twelve or thirteen years old?"

"She's in love with Boris now! How is she? The Countess said, looking at Boris's mother, and smiling quietly, though she continued to answer questions that often preoccupied her. "Oh, you know, if I discipline her severely, if I forbid her... God knows what they will do secretly (the Countess implies in her heart that they will kiss), but now I know everything she says. She ran home at night and told me everything. I may be getting used to her, but to be honest, it seems better. I'm very strict with my eldest daughter."

"Yes, the way I was educated is totally different." The eldest daughter, the beautiful Countess Willa, said with a smile.

But the smile didn't make Vera's face more beautiful. It was a common thing. On the contrary, her face became unnatural and boring. Vera, the eldest daughter, was handsome, not clumsy, had good grades in school and was well educated. Her voice was melodious and melodious. Her words were reasonable and appropriate. But it was surprising to say that the ladies and countess looked back at her as if they were very surprised. Why? Everyone felt embarrassed when she said that.

"Everyone always advocates for older children and wants to do something extraordinary." The female guest said.

"Machre, don't hide it, admit it! The Countess took her own view of Vera's affairs, "said the count. "What does that matter?" After all, she became a very good girl." He added, giving Vera a a look of approval.

The women stood up, promised to come for lunch, and went away in a carriage.

"What style is it?" They are all sitting, sitting still!" The Countess said after seeing off her guests.