ck, stood in the hall doorway looking with a stern,
grim face at the new arrivals. One might have thought she was angry with
the travelers and would immediately turn them out, had she not at the
same time been giving careful instructions to the servants for the
accommodation of the visitors and their belongings.

"The count's things? Bring them here," she said, pointing to the
portmanteaus and not greeting anyone. "The young ladies'? There to the
left. Now what are you dawdling for?" she cried to the maids. "Get the
samovar ready!... You've grown plumper and prettier," she remarked,
drawing Natasha (whose cheeks were glowing from the cold) to her by the
hood. "Foo! You are cold! Now take off your things, quick!" she shouted
to the count who was going to kiss her hand. "You're half frozen,
I'm sure! Bring some rum for tea!... Bonjour, Sonya dear!" she added,
turning to Sonya and indicating by this French greeting her slightly
contemptuous though affectionate attitude toward her.

When they came in to tea, having taken off their outdoor things and
tidied themselves up after their journey, Marya Dmitrievna kissed them
all in due order.

"I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with me. It was high
time," she said, giving Natasha a significant look. "The old man is here
and his son's expected any day. You'll have to make his acquaintance.
But we'll speak of that later on," she added, glancing at Sonya with a
look that showed she did not want to speak of it in her presence. "Now
listen," she said to the count. "What do you want tomorrow? Whom will
you send for? Shinshin?" she crooked one of her fingers. "The sniveling
Anna Mikhaylovna? That's two. She's here with her son. The son is
getting married! Then Bezukhov, eh? He is here too, with his wife. He
ran away from her and she came galloping after him. He dined with me on
Wednesday. As for them"--and she pointed to the girls--"tomorrow I'll
take them first to the Iberian shrine of the Mother of God, and then
we'll drive to the Super-Rogue's. I suppose you'll have everything new.
Don't judge by me: sleeves nowadays are this size! The other day young
Princess Irina Vasilevna came to see me; she was an awful sight--looked
as if she had put two barrels on her arms. You know not a day passes
now without some new fashion.... And what have you to do yourself?" she
asked the count sternly.

"One thing has come on top of another: her rags to buy, and now a
purchaser has t