could have
been wished for, and that no one but himself with his Mitenka and
his uncomfortable habits was to blame for the condition of the family
finances.

The father and mother did not speak of the matter to their son again,
but a few days later the countess sent for Sonya and, with a cruelty
neither of them expected, reproached her niece for trying to catch
Nicholas and for ingratitude. Sonya listened silently with downcast eyes
to the countess' cruel words, without understanding what was required
of her. She was ready to sacrifice everything for her benefactors.
Self-sacrifice was her most cherished idea but in this case she could
not see what she ought to sacrifice, or for whom. She could not help
loving the countess and the whole Rostov family, but neither could she
help loving Nicholas and knowing that his happiness depended on that
love. She was silent and sad and did not reply. Nicholas felt the
situation to be intolerable and went to have an explanation with his
mother. He first implored her to forgive him and Sonya and consent to
their marriage, then he threatened that if she molested Sonya he would
at once marry her secretly.

The countess, with a coldness her son had never seen in her before,
replied that he was of age, that Prince Andrew was marrying without his
father's consent, and he could do the same, but that she would never
receive that intriguer as her daughter.

Exploding at the word intriguer, Nicholas, raising his voice, told
his mother he had never expected her to try to force him to sell his
feelings, but if that were so, he would say for the last time.... But he
had no time to utter the decisive word which the expression of his face
caused his mother to await with terror, and which would perhaps have
forever remained a cruel memory to them both. He had not time to say it,
for Natasha, with a pale and set face, entered the room from the door at
which she had been listening.

"Nicholas, you are talking nonsense! Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, I
tell you!..." she almost screamed, so as to drown his voice.

"Mamma darling, it's not at all so... my poor, sweet darling," she
said to her mother, who conscious that they had been on the brink of
a rupture gazed at her son with terror, but in the obstinacy and
excitement of the conflict could not and would not give way.

"Nicholas, I'll explain to you. Go away! Listen, Mamma darling," said
Natasha.

Her words were incoherent, but they attained