War And Peace

‘Oh, well, you know, then,’ Nikolay went on, hot under the collar at the mere recollection of their argument. ‘He wants me to believe that every honest man has a duty to go against the government, when according to your oath of allegiance and your sense of duty . . . I’m sorry you weren’t there. As it was, they all came down on me, Denisov, and Natasha, too . . . Natasha is just ridiculous. We know she can twist him round her little finger, but when it comes to an argument she hasn’t an idea to call her own, she just repeats what he’s said,’ added Nikolay, yielding to that irresistible temptation that leads us criticize our nearest and dearest. Nikolay was forgetting that what he was saying about Natasha applied word for word to him and his wife.

‘Yes, I have noticed that,’ said Countess Marya.

‘When I told him duty and the oath of allegiance come first, he went on and on . . . God knows what he said. It’s such a pity you weren’t there. What would you have said?’

‘Well, I think you were absolutely right. I said as much to Natasha. Pierre says there’s nothing but suffering, torment and corruption, and it’s our duty to help our neighbour. He’s right, of course,’ said Countess Marya, ‘but he forgets that charity begins at home, and God Himself has shown us where our duty lies. We can run risks for ourselves, but not for our children.’

‘That’s just what I said,’ cried Nikolay, who imagined he had. ‘But he would insist. All this talk about loving your neighbour, and Christianity, and right in front of little Nikolay. He slipped in and sat there breaking things to pieces.’

‘You know, Nikolay, I often worry about little Nikolay,’ said Countess Marya. ‘He’s a very unusual boy. And I’m afraid I neglect him for my own. We all have our children, our own ties, and he’s got nobody. He’s always alone with his thoughts.’

‘Well, I must say you’ve nothing to reproach yourself for on that score. Anything the fondest mother could do for her son you’ve done for him, and you’re still doing it. And of course I’m very pleased you do. He’s a splendid boy, he really is! This evening he sat there in a kind of dream as he listened to Pierre. And just imagine, we got up to go into supper. I have a look, and lo and behold he’s crumbled everything on my desk into little pieces, and he came up and told me. I’ve never known him tell a fib. He’s a splendid boy, he really is!’ repeated Nikolay, who deep down didn’t much like Nikolay, though he always felt a need to keep calling him a splendid boy.

‘Still, it’s not like having a mother,’ said Countess Marya. ‘I know it’s not the same, and it worries me. He’s a wonderful boy, but I’m terribly afraid for him. Some company would be good for him.’

‘Well, we’ve not long to wait. Next summer I’m taking him to Petersburg,’ said Nikolay. ‘Yes, Pierre’s always been a dreamer and he always will be,’ he went on, reverting to the argument in the study, which was obviously still on his mind. ‘Why should I bother what’s going on up there – Arakcheyev the villain, and all that stuff – why should I have bothered about that when we got married and I was up to my ears in debt and they were going to put me in prison, and my mother couldn’t see it or understand what was going on? After that I had you, and the children, and my work. I’m at it from morning to night either in the office or out at work, and I’m not doing it for fun. No, I know I’ve got to work to keep mother happy, pay you back and make sure my children are not left in poverty as I was.’

Countess Marya wanted to tell him that man does not live by bread alone, and he attached too much importance to all this work, but she knew it didn’t need saying, and it would be useless. She simply took his hand and kissed it. Taking his wife’s gesture as a sign of approval and an endorsement of his line of thinking, he thought for a few moments without saying anything, and then went on expounding his ideas.

‘Do you know something, Marie,’ he said, ‘Ilya Mitrofanych [his steward] was here today from the Tambov estate, and he tells me the forest would fetch eighty thousand.’ And Nikolay’s face was a picture of excitement as he began talking about the possibility of buying Otradnoye back before long. ‘All I need is another ten years of life, and I’ll leave the children . . . well provided for.’