War And Peace

Any possibility of returning to the army, where he was next in line for promotion to colonel, was out of the question, because his mother now clung on to her son for dear life. And so despite his reluctance to stay on in Moscow, mingling with people who had known him in days gone by, and despite his hatred of the civil service, he accepted a civilian post in Moscow, discarded his dearly loved uniform and set himself up with his mother and Sonya in modest lodgings in one of the poorer districts.

Natasha and Pierre were living in Petersburg at this time, and they had no clear idea of Nikolay’s situation. Having borrowed money from his brother-in-law, Nikolay did everything he could to hide his poverty-stricken situation from him. What made things worse was the need not only to keep himself, Sonya and his mother on a salary of twelve hundred roubles, but to keep his mother in such a way that she wouldn’t notice how poor they had become. The countess couldn’t conceive of life without the luxuries she had been used to since childhood, and, blissfully unaware of causing any problems for her son, she would insist on sending a carriage round to fetch a friend, even though they had no carriage, ordering expensive delicacies for herself, or wine for her son, and asking for money to buy surprise presents for Natasha, Sonya or Nikolay himself.

Sonya ran the house, waited on her aunt, read to her, put up with her tantrums and half-concealed enmity and conspired with Nikolay to conceal from the old countess their poverty-stricken situation. Nikolay felt irredeemably indebted to Sonya, deeply grateful for everything she did for his mother, and he also greatly admired her patience and devotion. Nevertheless, he did what he could to distance himself from her.

In his heart of hearts he seemed to resent the fact that she was too perfect, beyond all criticism. She possessed all the admirable qualities, but very little to make him love her. And he felt that the more admirable she became the less he loved her. He had taken her at her word when she had written to give him his freedom, and now he behaved towards her as if what had happened between them was ancient history, long forgotten, something that could never under any circumstances be returned to.

Nikolay’s position was going from bad to worse. His idea of building up some savings out of his salary proved to be an idle dream. Far from saving anything, he was even running up small debts to satisfy his mother’s demands. There seemed to be no way out of this situation. He had no time for the idea of marrying a rich woman, which his female relatives kept suggesting. The only other solution – his mother’s death – never even crossed his mind. There was soon nothing he wanted, nothing to hope for, and in his heart of hearts he took a grim and gloomy satisfaction in the stoical way he put up with things. He went out of his way to avoid old acquaintances, with their expressions of sympathy and humiliating offers of assistance. He avoided every kind of frivolity and amusement; and even at home he did nothing but play patience with his mother, and pace the room silently, smoking one pipe after another. He seemed to cultivate this dark mood of his; it was the only thing that kept him going.

CHAPTER 6

At the beginning of the winter Princess Marya arrived in Moscow. From the city’s rumour mill she heard about the Rostovs’ situation; the word was that ‘the son was sacrificing himself for his mother’. ‘I would have expected nothing less of him,’ Princess Marya told herself, only too delighted to find confirmation of her love for him. Bearing in mind her friendly, almost intimate relationship with the Rostovs – she was almost a member of the family – she felt duty-bound to call on them. But when she thought of her relations with Nikolay in Voronezh she was scared to do so. A few weeks after her arrival in Moscow, however, she plucked up the courage and went to see the Rostovs.

Nikolay was the first to meet her because it was impossible to get to the countess’s room without walking through his. Princess Marya took one glance at him and instead of the anticipated expression of delight all she saw was a look of chilly aloofness and pride that she had never seen before. Nikolay asked after her health, led her through to his mother and stayed no more than five minutes before walking out.

When Princess Marya was leaving Nikolay met her again, and saw her through into the hall with almost exaggerated formality and stiffness. He made no comment on what she said about the countess’s health. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you. Just leave me alone,’ his eyes seemed to say.

‘What does she think she’s doing prowling about in here? What’s she after? I can’t stand these fine ladies and their nice ways!’ he said out loud in Sonya’s presence, obviously unable to contain his annoyance, once the princess’s carriage had trundled away.