战争与和平(上)-第109章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


were　constantly　at　the　Rostovs’　house　in　Petersburg；　the　most　intimate　friends　of　the　family　were　very　soon　Boris；　Pierre；　who　had　been　met　in　the　street　by　the　old　count　and　dragged　home　by　him；　and　Berg；　who　spent　whole　days　with　the　Rostovs；　and　paid　the　elder　of　the　young　countesses；　Vera；　every　attention　a　young　man　can　pay　who　intends　to　make　a　proposal。
Not　in　vain　had　Berg　shown　everybody　his　right　hand　that　had　been　wounded　at　Austerlitz；　and　the　sword　quite　unnecessarily　held　in　his　left。　He　had　related　this　episode　to　everybody　so　persistently　and　with　such　an　air　of　importance；　that　every　one　had　come　to　believe　in　the　utility　and　merit　of　the　feat；　and　Berg　had　received　two　decorations　for　Austerlitz。
In　the　war　in　Finland；　too；　he　had　succeeded　in　distinguishing　himself。　He　had　picked　up　a　fragment　of　a　grenade；　by　which　an　adjutant　had　been　killed　close　to　the　commander…in…chief；　and　had　carried　this　fragment　to　his　commander。　Again；　as　after　Austerlitz；　he　talked　to　every　one　at　such　length　and　with　such　persistency　about　this　incident　that　people　ended　by　believing　that　this；　too；　was　something　that　ought　to　have　been　done；　and　Berg　received　two　decorations　for　the　Finnish　war　too。　In　1809　he　was　a　captain　in　the　guards　with　decorations　on　his　breast；　and　was　filling　some　particularly　profitable　posts　in　Petersburg。
Though　there　were　some　sceptics　who　smiled　when　Berg’s　merits　were　mentioned　before　them；　it　could　not　be　denied　that　Berg　was　a　gallant　officer；　punctual　in　the　discharge　of　his　duties；　in　excellent　repute　with　the　authorities；　and　a　conscientious　young　man　with　a　brilliant　career　before　him　and　a　secure　position；　indeed；　in　society。
Four　years　before；　on　meeting　a　German　comrade　in　the　parterre　of　a　Moscow　theatre；　Berg　had　pointed　out　to　him　Vera　Rostov；　and　said　to　him　in　German；　“That　girl　will　be　my　wife。”　From　that　moment　he　had　made　up　his　mind　to　marry　her。　Now　in　Petersburg；　after　duly　considering　the　Rostovs’　position　and　his　own；　he　decided　that　the　time　had　come　and　made　his　offer。
Berg’s　proposal　was　received　at　first　with　a　hesitation　by　no　means　flattering　for　him。　It　seemed　a　strange　idea　at　first　that　the　son　of　an　obscure　Livonian　gentleman　should　propose　for　the　hand　of　a　Countess　Rostov。　But　Berg’s　leading　characteristic　was　an　egoism　so　na？ve　and　good…natured　that　the　Rostovs　unconsciously　began　to　think　that　it　must　be　a　good　thing　since　he　was　himself　so　firmly　convinced　that　it　would　be　a　good　thing；　and　indeed　a　very　good　thing。　The　Rostovs　were；　moreover；　seriously　embarrassed　in　their　pecuniary　affairs；　a　fact　of　which　the　suitor　could　not　but　be　aware；　and　what　was　the　chief　consideration；　Vera　was　now　four…and…twenty；　and　had　been　brought　out　everywhere；　and；　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　she　was　undeniably　good…looking　and　sensible；　no　one　had　hitherto　made　her　an　offer。　The　offer　was　accepted。
“You　see；”　Berg　said　to　a　comrade；　whom　he　called　his　friend—only　because　he　knew　all　people　do　have　friends—“you　see；　I　have　taken　everything　into　consideration；　and　I　should　not　have　got　married　if　I　had　not　thought　it　well　over；　or　if　it　had　been　unsuitable　in　any　way。　But　at　present　my　papa　and　mamma　are　well　provided　for；　I　have　secured　them　the　lease　of　that　place　in　the　Ostsee　district；　and　I　can　live　in　Petersburg　with　my　pay　and　her　fortune　and　my　careful　habits。　We　can　get　along　nicely。　I’m　not　marrying　for　money；　I　consider　that　ungentlemanly；　but　the　wife　ought　to　bring　her　share　and　the　husband　his。　I　have　my　position　in　the　service；　she　has　connections　and　some　small　means。　That’s　worth　something　nowadays；　isn’t　it？　And　what’s　the　chief　consideration；　she’s　handsome；　estimable　girl；　and　she　loves　me。…”
Berg　blushed　and　smiled。
“And　I　love　her　because　she　has　a　character　that　is　reasonable　and　very　nice。　Her　sister　now—though　they　are　of　the　same　family—is　utterly　different；　and　her　character　is　disagreeable；　and　she　has　none　of　that　intelligence；　but　something　you　know　…　I　don’t　like。　…　But　my　betrothed　…　You　must　come　and　see　us；　come　to　…”　Berg；　went　on；　he　was　going　to　say　“to　dinner；”　but　on　second　thoughts　he　said　“to　tea；”　and　putting　out　his　tongue　he　blew　a　little　ring　of　tobacco　smoke　that　embodied　for　him　all　his　dreams　of　happiness。
The　first　feeling　of　hesitation　aroused　in　the　parents　by　Berg’s　proposal　had　been　followed　by　the　festivity　and　rejoicing　in　the　family　usual　on　such　occasions；　but　the　rejoicing　was　apparent　and　not　genuine。
A　certain　embarrassment　and　shamefacedness　could　be　detected　in　the　feelings　of　the　relations　in　regard　to　this　marriage。　It　was　as　though　their　conscience　smote　them　for　not　having　been　very　fond　of　Vera　and　of　being　so　ready　now　to　get　her　off　their　hands。　The　old　count　was　more　disconcerted　over　it　than　any　one。　He　would　most　likely　have　been　unable　to　say　what　made　him　feel　so；　but　his　financial　difficulties　were　at　the　root　of　the　matter。　He　absolutely　did　not　know　what　he　had；　how　much　his　debts　amounted　to；　and　what　he　would　be　in　a　position　to　give　for　Vera’s　dowry。　Each　of　his　daughters　had　at　their　birth　been　assigned　a　portion；　consisting　of　an　estate　with　three　hundred　serfs　on　it。　But　one　of　those　estates　had　by　now　been　sold；　and　the　other　had　been　mortgaged；　and　the　interest　was　so　much　in　arrears　that　it　would　have　to　be　sold；　so　that　to　give　this　estate　was　impossible。　There　was　no　money　either。
Berg　had　been　betrothed　more　than　a　month；　and　it　was　only　a　week　before　the　date　fixed　for　the　wedding；　but　the　count　was　still　unable　to　come　to　a　decision　on　the　subject　of　the　dowry；　and　had　not　spoken　of　it　to　his　wife。　At　one　time　the　count　thought　of　making　over　the　Ryazan　estate　to　Vera；　then　he　thought　of　selling　his　forest；　then　of　borrowing　money　on　a　note　of　hand。
A　few　days　before　the　wedding；　Berg　went　early　in　the　morning　into　the　count’s　study；　and　with　an　agreeable　smile；　respectfully　invited　his　father…in…law　to　let　him　know　what　fortune　would　be　given　with　the　Countess　Vera。　The　count　was　so　much　disconcerted　by　this　long…foreseen　inquiry　that；　without　thinking；　he　said　the　first　thing　that　came　into　his　head。
“I　like　your　being　businesslike　about　it；　I　like　it；　you　will　be　quite　satisfied…”
And　clapping　Berg　on　the　shoulder；　he　got　up；　intending　to　cut　short　the　conversation。　But　Berg；　smiling　blandly；　announced　that　if　he　were　not　to　know　for　certain　what　would　be　given　with　Vera；　and　to　receive　at　least　part　of　the　dowry　in　advance；　he　would　be　obliged　to　break　off　the　marriage。　“Because；　you　must　consider；　count；　if　I　were　to　allow　myself　to　marry　now　without　having　a　definite　security　for　the　maintenance　of　my　wife　I　should　be　acting　like　a　scoundrel…”
The　conversation　ended　by　the　count；　in　his　anxiety　to　be　generous　and　to　avoid　further　requests；　saying　that　he　would　give　him　a　note　of　hand　for　eighty　thousand。　Berg　smiled　gently；　kissed　the　count　on　the　shoulder；　and　said　that　he　was　very　grateful；　but　could　not　make　his　arrangements　in　his　new　life　without　receiving　thirty　thousand　in　ready　money。　“Twenty　thousand　at　least；　count；”　he　added；　“and　then　a　note　of　hand　simply　for　sixty　thousand。”
“Yes；　yes；　very　good；”　said　the　count　hurriedly。　“Only　excuse　me；　my　dear　boy；　I’ll　give　you　twenty　thousand　and　the　note　of　hand　for　eighty　thousand　as　well。　That’s　all　right；　kiss　me。”


Chapter　12
NATASHA　was　sixteen；　and　it　was　the　year　1809；　that　year　to　which　she　had　reckoned　up　on　her　fingers　with　Boris；　after　she　had　kissed　him　four　years　before。　Since　then　she　had　not　once　seen　him。　When　Boris　was　mentioned　she　would　speak　quite　freely　of　it　before　Sonya　and　her　mother；　treating　it　as　a　settled　thing　that　all　that　had　passed　between　them　was　childish　nonsense；　not　worth　talking　of　and　long　ago　forgotten。　But　in　the　most　secret　recesses　of　her　soul　the　question　whether　her　engagement　to　Boris　were　really　a　mere　jest　or　a　solemn；　binding　promise　worried　her。
Ever　since　Boris　had　left　Moscow　in　1805　to　go　into　the　army　he　had　not　once　seen　the　Rostovs。　Several　times　he　had　been　in　Moscow；　and　in　travelling　had　passed　not　far　from　Otradnoe；　but　he　had　not　once　been　at　the　Rostovs’。
It　had　sometimes　occurred　to　Natasha　that　he　did　not　want　to　see　her；　and　her　surmises　had　been　confirmed　by　the　mournful　tone　in　which　he　was　referred　to　by　her　elders。
“Old　friends　are　soon　forgotten　nowadays；”　the　countess　would　say　after　Boris　had　been　mentioned。
Anna　Mihalovna　had　taken　in　these　latter　days　to　seeing　less　of　the　Rostovs。　There　was　a　marked　dignity；　too；　in　her　manner　with　them；　and　she　spoke　on　every　occasion　with　thankfulness　and　enthusiasm　of　her　son’s　great　abilities　and　brilliant　career。　When　the　Rostovs　arrived　in　Petersburg　Boris　came　to　call　on　them。
It　was　not　without　emotion　that　he　came　to　see　them。　His　reminiscences　of　Natasha　were　Boris’s　most　poetic　memories。　But　at　the　same　time　he　came　to　call　on　them　firmly　resolved　to　make　her　and　her　relations　feel　that　the　childish　vows　between　Natasha　and　him　could　have　no　binding　force　for　her　or　for　him。　He　had　a　brilliant　position　in　society；　thanks　to　his　intimacy　with　Countess　Bezuhov；　a　brilliant　position　in　the　service；　thanks　to　the　protection　of　a　great　person　whose　confidence　he　had　completely　won；　and　he　was　beginning　to　make　plans　for　marrying　one　of　the　richest　heiresses　in　Petersburg；　plans　which　might　very　easily　be　realised。　When　Boris　went　into　the　Rostovs’　drawing…room；　Natasha　was　in　her　own　room。　On　hearing　of　his　arrival　she　almost　ran　with　a　flushed　face　into　the　drawing…room；　radiant　with　a　smile　that　was　more　than　cordial。
Boris　had　thought　of　Natasha　as　the　little　girl　he　had　known　four　years　before　in　a　short　frock；　with　black　eyes　glancing　under　her　curls；　and　a　desperate；　childish　giggle；　and　so；　when　a　quite　different　Natasha　came　in；　he　was　taken　aback　and　his　face　expressed　surprise　and　admiration。　His　expression　delighted　Natasha。
“Well；　would　you　know　your　mischievous　little　playmate？”　said　the　countess。　Boris　kissed　Natasha’s　hand；　and　said　he　was　surprised　at　the　change　in　her。
“How　pretty　you　have　grown！”
“I　should　hope　so！”　was　the　answer　in　Natasha’s　laughing　eyes。
“And　does　papa　look　older？”　she　asked。
Natasha　sat　still；　taking　no　part　in　the　talk　between　Boris　and　her　mother。　Silently　and　minutely　she　scrutinised　the　young　man　who　had　been　her　suitor　in　her　childhood。　He　felt　oppressed　by　that　persistent；　friendly　gaze；　and　glanced　once　or　twice　at　her。
The　uniform；　the　spurs；　the　tie；　the　way　Boris　had　brushed　his　hair；—it　was　all　fashionable　and　comme　il　faut。　That　Natasha　noticed　at　once。　He　sat　a　little　sideways　on　a　low　chair　beside　the　countess；　with　his　right　hand　smacking　the　exquisitely　clean　and　perfectly　fitting　glove　on　his　left。　He　talked　with　a　peculiar；　refined　compression　of　the　lips　about　the　divisions　of　the　best　society　in　Petersburg；　with　faint　irony　referred　to　old　days　in　Moscow　and　old　Moscow　acquaintances。　Not　unintentionally；　as　Natasha　felt；　he　mentioned　some　of　the　highest　aristocracy；　alluded　to　the　ambassador’s　ball；　at　which　he　had　been　present；　and　to　invitations　from　N。　N。　and　from　S。　S。
Natasha　sat　the　whole　time　without　speaking；　looking　up　from　under　her　brows　at　him。　Her　eyes　made　Boris