or your hand? You know Prince Andrew gave
you complete freedom--if it is really so; but I don't believe it!
Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can be?"

Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment. Evidently this question
presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know how
to answer it.

"I don't know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!"

Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously.

"If there were reasons..." she began.

But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm.

"Sonya, one can't doubt him! One can't, one can't! Don't you
understand?" she cried.

"Does he love you?"

"Does he love me?" Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her friend's
lack of comprehension. "Why, you have read his letter and you have seen
him."

"But if he is dishonorable?"

"He! dishonorable? If you only knew!" exclaimed Natasha.

"If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions or
cease seeing you; and if you won't do this, I will. I will write to him,
and I will tell Papa!" said Sonya resolutely.

"But I can't live without him!" cried Natasha.

"Natasha, I don't understand you. And what are you saying! Think of your
father and of Nicholas."

"I don't want anyone, I don't love anyone but him. How dare you say he
is dishonorable? Don't you know that I love him?" screamed Natasha. "Go
away, Sonya! I don't want to quarrel with you, but go, for God's sake
go! You see how I am suffering!" Natasha cried angrily, in a voice of
despair and repressed irritation. Sonya burst into sobs and ran from the
room.

Natasha went to the table and without a moment's reflection wrote that
answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all
the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their
misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the
magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her
freedom, she begged Princess Mary to forget everything and forgive her
if she had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife.
At that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natasha.

On Friday the Rostovs were to return to the country, but on Wednesday
the count went with the prospective purchaser to his estate near Moscow.

On the day the count left, Sonya and Natasha were invited to a big
dinner party at the Karagins', and Marya Dmitrievna took them there. At
that party Natasha aga