Chapter 8 chapter eight

Everyone was silent.The countess looked at the guest with a pleasant smile on her face, but she did not hide her feeling that she would not be in the least unhappy if the guest stood up and left the table.The guest's daughter was straightening her dress and looking at her mother with questioning eyes. At this moment, a group of men and women suddenly heard the sound of running towards the door and the sound of chairs being tripped over from the next room. A 20-year-old girl ran into the room and covered something with the short gauze skirt, and she stopped in the middle of the room.Apparently she stumbled while running and jumped so far unexpectedly.At the same instant a student with a crimson collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump, pink-cheeked boy in a children's jacket appeared at the door.

The count jumped up suddenly, walked swaying, and stretched out his arms to embrace the little girl who ran in. "Ah, she's here after all!" he cried, smiling. "Name-day man! Machere-name-day man!" "Machere, ily aunt spour, tout," said the countess, with an assumed seriousness, "you always doted on her, Ellie," she added to her husband. "Bonjour, machere, jevous felicite," said the guest, "Quelledelicieuseenfant!" she added, turning her face to her mother. ①French: There is a time for everything, my dear. ② French: My dear, hello, congratulations to you.What a cute little child!

The little girl has a pair of black eyes and a big mouth. She is not pretty, but she is quite lively.She ran so fast that the braces slipped off, revealing the child's small shoulders, her dark curly hair hung behind her, her bare arms were very slender, she wore a pair of crocheted trousers, and her little feet wore short, laceless shoes. Leather boots.To say that she is a child is no longer a child, that she is a girl is not a girl, she is in this wonderful age.She broke free from her father's arms and walked to her mother. She didn't care about her mother's stern scolding, but hid her face in her mother's lace cloak. The doll pulled out from below.

"Did you see it? . . . a doll . . . Mimi . . . you all saw it." Natasha could not go on (everything seemed ridiculous to her), fell on top of her mother, and laughed so loudly that everyone, even the overly polite guest, couldn't help laughing. . "Come on, come on, take your ugly thing with you!" said the mother, feigning a temper, and pushing her daughter aside. "This is my little girl," she said, turning to her guest. For a moment Natasha lifted her face from under her mother's lace kerchief, looked at her from below through the tears of laughter, and hid her face again.

The female guest is compelled to appreciate this domestic scene and considers it necessary to take part in it. "Please tell me, my dear," she said, turning to Natasha, "who is this Mimi to you? Probably a daughter?" Natasha did not like the indulgent tone with which children were treated, which the female visitor addressed to her.She said nothing, but cast a serious glance at the guest. At the same time, this generation of young people: the officer Boris - the son of the princess named Anna Mikhailovna, the student Nikolai - the eldest son of the count, Sonia - one of the count's current The fifteen-year-old niece and Petrusha the Younger, the count's youngest son, were seated in the drawing room.Evidently, they had gone to great lengths to keep the excitement and delight still on everyone's faces within the bounds of decorum.Evidently, their chatter was more pleasant in the back rooms from which they had sprinted out than here about town gossip, weather, and comtesse Apraksine.Sometimes they stared at each other, and with difficulty they couldn't stop laughing.

①French: Countess Apraxina. Two young men, one a student and the other an officer, had been friends since childhood, were of the same age and handsome, but not alike in face.Boris is a tall, fair-haired young man with well-formed features and delicate features on his peaceful and handsome face.Nikolay was a short young man with curly hair and a frank facial expression.A short black moustache grew gradually from his upper lip, and his agility and passion radiated throughout his face.Nikolay's cheeks flushed as soon as he entered the drawing room.Evidently he wanted to talk, but couldn't find the subject; Boris, on the contrary, thought of a way to deal with it at once, and told calmly and jokingly about the doll Mimi, who was still there when he knew her. A little girl, when its nostrils were still intact, he remembered that it had grown old and cracked on the top of its head within five years.Having said this, he glanced at Natasha.Natasha turned her face away to ignore him, and looked at her little brother who was squinting his eyes and trembling with laughter. She couldn't hold back any longer, and jumped up, with quick legs, from the living room. Run out.Boris did not laugh.

"Mom, it seems that you are leaving too? Do you want a carriage?" He said to his mother with a smile on his face. "Okay, let's go, let's go, tell them to get the carriage ready." She said with a smile. Boris came out quietly, and followed Natasha, and the plump boy ran after them angrily, as if remorseful for a setback in his affairs.