dulge in
some freak, as he seemed much upset by the Rostovs' visit.

"There, my dear princess, I've brought you my songstress," said the
count, bowing and looking round uneasily as if afraid the old prince
might appear. "I am so glad you should get to know one another... very
sorry the prince is still ailing," and after a few more commonplace
remarks he rose. "If you'll allow me to leave my Natasha in your
hands for a quarter of an hour, Princess, I'll drive round to see Anna
Semenovna, it's quite near in the Dogs' Square, and then I'll come back
for her."

The count had devised this diplomatic ruse (as he afterwards told his
daughter) to give the future sisters-in-law an opportunity to talk
to one another freely, but another motive was to avoid the danger of
encountering the old prince, of whom he was afraid. He did not mention
this to his daughter, but Natasha noticed her father's nervousness
and anxiety and felt mortified by it. She blushed for him, grew still
angrier at having blushed, and looked at the princess with a bold and
defiant expression which said that she was not afraid of anybody. The
princess told the count that she would be delighted, and only begged him
to stay longer at Anna Semenovna's, and he departed.

Despite the uneasy glances thrown at her by Princess Mary--who wished to
have a tete-a-tete with Natasha--Mademoiselle Bourienne remained in
the room and persistently talked about Moscow amusements and theaters.
Natasha felt offended by the hesitation she had noticed in the anteroom,
by her father's nervousness, and by the unnatural manner of the princess
who--she thought--was making a favor of receiving her, and so everything
displeased her. She did not like Princess Mary, whom she thought very
plain, affected, and dry. Natasha suddenly shrank into herself and
involuntarily assumed an offhand air which alienated Princess Mary still
more. After five minutes of irksome, constrained conversation, they
heard the sound of slippered feet rapidly approaching. Princess Mary
looked frightened.

The door opened and the old prince, in a dressing gown and a white
nightcap, came in.

"Ah, madam!" he began. "Madam, Countess... Countess Rostova, if I am
not mistaken... I beg you to excuse me, to excuse me... I did not know,
madam. God is my witness, I did not know you had honored us with a
visit, and I came in such a costume only to see my daughter. I beg
you to excuse me... God is my witness, I didn't know