aid in his breaking voice
that was now deep and now shrill:

"Well, Papa, I tell you definitely, and Mamma too, it's as you please,
but I say definitely that you must let me enter the army, because I
can't... that's all...."

The countess, in dismay, looked up to heaven, clasped her hands, and
turned angrily to her husband.

"That comes of your talking!" said she.

But the count had already recovered from his excitement.

"Come, come!" said he. "Here's a fine warrior! No! Nonsense! You must
study."

"It's not nonsense, Papa. Fedya Obolenski is younger than I, and he's
going too. Besides, all the same I can't study now when..." Petya
stopped short, flushed till he perspired, but still got out the words,
"when our Fatherland is in danger."

"That'll do, that'll do--nonsense...."

"But you said yourself that we would sacrifice everything."

"Petya! Be quiet, I tell you!" cried the count, with a glance at his
wife, who had turned pale and was staring fixedly at her son.

"And I tell you--Peter Kirilych here will also tell you..."

"Nonsense, I tell you. Your mother's milk has hardly dried on your lips
and you want to go into the army! There, there, I tell you," and the
count moved to go out of the room, taking the papers, probably to reread
them in his study before having a nap.

"Well, Peter Kirilych, let's go and have a smoke," he said.

Pierre was agitated and undecided. Natasha's unwontedly brilliant eyes,
continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had reduced
him to this condition.

"No, I think I'll go home."

"Home? Why, you meant to spend the evening with us.... You don't
often come nowadays as it is, and this girl of mine," said the count
good-naturedly, pointing to Natasha, "only brightens up when you're
here."

"Yes, I had forgotten... I really must go home... business..." said
Pierre hurriedly.

"Well, then, au revoir!" said the count, and went out of the room.

"Why are you going? Why are you upset?" asked Natasha, and she looked
challengingly into Pierre's eyes.

"Because I love you!" was what he wanted to say, but he did not say it,
and only blushed till the tears came, and lowered his eyes.

"Because it is better for me to come less often... because... No, simply
I have business...."

"Why? No, tell me!" Natasha began resolutely and suddenly stopped.

They looked at each other with dismayed and embarrassed faces. He tried
to smile but could not: his smile expresse