, have some for the
children."

Flourishing his arms in despair the count left the room without
replying.

"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed him
into her mother's room.

"Nothing! What business is it of yours?" muttered the count angrily.

"But I heard," said Natasha. "Why does Mamma object?"

"What business is it of yours?" cried the count.

Natasha stepped up to the window and pondered.

"Papa! Here's Berg coming to see us," said she, looking out of the
window.

CHAPTER XVI

Berg, the Rostovs' son-in-law, was already a colonel wearing the orders
of Vladimir and Anna, and he still filled the quiet and agreeable post
of assistant to the head of the staff of the assistant commander of the
first division of the Second Army.

On the first of September he had come to Moscow from the army.

He had nothing to do in Moscow, but he had noticed that everyone in the
army was asking for leave to visit Moscow and had something to do there.
So he considered it necessary to ask for leave of absence for family and
domestic reasons.

Berg drove up to his father-in-law's house in his spruce little trap
with a pair of sleek roans, exactly like those of a certain prince. He
looked attentively at the carts in the yard and while going up to the
porch took out a clean pocket handkerchief and tied a knot in it.

From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into the
drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of Natasha
and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health.

"Health, at a time like this?" said the count. "Come, tell us the news!
Is the army retreating or will there be another battle?"

"God Almighty alone can decide the fate of our fatherland, Papa," said
Berg. "The army is burning with a spirit of heroism and the leaders, so
to say, have now assembled in council. No one knows what is coming. But
in general I can tell you, Papa, that such a heroic spirit, the truly
antique valor of the Russian army, which they--which it" (he
corrected himself) "has shown or displayed in the battle of the
twenty-sixth--there are no words worthy to do it justice! I tell you,
Papa" (he smote himself on the breast as a general he had heard speaking
had done, but Berg did it a trifle late for he should have struck his
breast at the words "Russian army"), "I tell you frankly that we, the
commanders, far from having to urge the men on or anything of t