《War And Peace》 Book15 CHAPTER XX
by Leo Tolstoy
FROM THAT FIRST EVENING, when Natasha had said to Princess Marya, with a
gaily mocking smile, that he looked exactly, yes, exactly, as if he had come out
of a bath with his short jacket and his cropped hair—from that minute something
hidden and unrecognised by herself, yet irresistible, awakened in Natasha's
soul.
Everything—face, gait, eyes, voice—everything was at once transformed in her.
To her own surprise, the force of life and hopes of happiness floated to the
surface and demanded satisfaction. From that first evening Natasha seemed to
have forgotten all that had happened to her. From that time she never once
complained of her position; she said not one word about the past, and was not
afraid of already making light-hearted plans for the future. She spoke little of
Pierre; but when Princess Marya mentioned him, a light that had long been dim
gleamed in her eyes, and her lips curved in a strange smile.
The change that took place in Natasha at first surprised Princess Marya; but
when she understood what it meant, that change mortified her. “Can she have
loved my brother so little that she can so soon forget him?” thought Princess
Marya, when she thought over it alone. But when she was with Natasha she was not
vexed with her, and did not blame her. The awakened force of life that had
regained possession of Natasha was obviously so irresistible and so unexpected
by herself, that in Natasha's presence Princess Marya felt that she had no right
to blame her even in her heart.
Natasha gave herself up with such completeness and sincerity to her new
feeling that she did not even attempt to conceal that she was not now sorrowful,
but glad and happy.
When Princess Marya had returned to her room that night after her interview
with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold.
“He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken?” she repeated. And a joyful, and at the
same time piteous, expression, that begged forgiveness for its joy, was in
Natasha's face. “I wanted to listen at the door; but I knew you would tell
me.”
Ready as Princess Marya was to understand and to be touched by the expression
with which Natasha looked at her, and much as she felt for her agitation, yet
her words for the first moment mortified her. She thought of her brother and his
love.
“But what is one to do? She cannot help it,” thought Princess Marya; and with
a sad and somewhat severe face she repeated to Natasha all Pierre had said to
her. Natasha was stupefied to hear he was going to Petersburg. “To Petersburg!”
she repeated, as though unable to take it in.
But looking at the mournful expression of Princess Marya's face she divined
the cause of her sadness, and suddenly burst into tears.
“Marie,” she said, “tell me what I am to do. I am afraid of being horrid.
Whatever you say, I will do; tell me …”
“You love him?”
“Yes!” whispered Natasha.
“What are you crying for, then? I am very glad for you,” said Princess Marya,
moved by those tears to complete forgiveness of Natasha's joy.
“It will not be soon … some day. Only think how happy it will be when I am
his wife and you marry Nikolay!”
“Natasha, I have begged you not to speak of that. Let us talk of you.”
name=Marker17>Both were silent.
“Only why go to Petersburg?” cried Natasha suddenly, and she hastened to
answer herself. “No, no; it must be so … Yes, Marie? It must be …”
