ll
contented with his life. Of late, in 1809, he found in letters from home
more frequent complaints from his mother that their affairs were falling
into greater and greater disorder, and that it was time for him to come
back to gladden and comfort his old parents.

Reading these letters, Nicholas felt a dread of their wanting to
take him away from surroundings in which, protected from all the
entanglements of life, he was living so calmly and quietly. He felt that
sooner or later he would have to re-enter that whirlpool of life, with
its embarrassments and affairs to be straightened out, its accounts with
stewards, quarrels, and intrigues, its ties, society, and with Sonya's
love and his promise to her. It was all dreadfully difficult and
complicated; and he replied to his mother in cold, formal letters in
French, beginning: "My dear Mamma," and ending: "Your obedient son,"
which said nothing of when he would return. In 1810 he received letters
from his parents, in which they told him of Natasha's engagement to
Bolkonski, and that the wedding would be in a year's time because
the old prince made difficulties. This letter grieved and mortified
Nicholas. In the first place he was sorry that Natasha, for whom he
cared more than for anyone else in the family, should be lost to the
home; and secondly, from his hussar point of view, he regretted not to
have been there to show that fellow Bolkonski that connection with him
was no such great honor after all, and that if he loved Natasha he
might dispense with permission from his dotard father. For a moment he
hesitated whether he should not apply for leave in order to see Natasha
before she was married, but then came the maneuvers, and considerations
about Sonya and about the confusion of their affairs, and Nicholas again
put it off. But in the spring of that year, he received a letter from
his mother, written without his father's knowledge, and that letter
persuaded him to return. She wrote that if he did not come and take
matters in hand, their whole property would be sold by auction and they
would all have to go begging. The count was so weak, and trusted Mitenka
so much, and was so good-natured, that everybody took advantage of him
and things were going from bad to worse. "For God's sake, I implore
you, come at once if you do not wish to make me and the whole family
wretched," wrote the countess.

This letter touched Nicholas. He had that common sense of a
matter-of-fact