Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

One evening the old countess, wearing a bedcap, a jacket, no wig, and a shabby bun peeking out from under the white muslin cap, sighed and wheezed, and knelt down. Kowtowing to vespers on the little rug, her door creaked, and Natasha, barefoot in slippers, also in a jacket and curling papers, ran into the room. .The countess looked around and frowned.She was about to finish her last prayer: "Is this bed my future birthday?" Her prayer was swept away.After seeing the praying mother, Natasha's face was flushed and excited. She suddenly stopped running, squatted on the ground, and couldn't help sticking out her tongue, threatening herself.Noticing that her mother was continuing to pray, she ran to the bed on tiptoe, quickly rubbed one little foot against the other, took off her slippers, and jumped onto the couch that the Countess feared would become her birthday.The couch was high, with a feather mattress and five pillows each smaller than the other.Natasha jumped up, got into the feather mattress, turned towards the wall, and began to play under the covers, lying with her knees bent up to her chin, kicking her legs, and at this moment Her laughter was faintly audible; sometimes she covered her head, and sometimes she poked it out to look at her mother.The countess had said her vespers and went to the bed with a serious face, but when she saw Natasha covered her head, she smiled kindly.

"Hello, hello, hello," said the mother. "Mother, can we talk, can you?" Natasha said, "Hey, give me a kiss on the neck, and another kiss." Although Natasha showed superficial roughness, she was sensitive and flexible. No matter how she hugged her mother with her hands, she would never feel pain, she would not disgust her, and she would not make her feel uncomfortable. "Ah, what are we talking about now?" Mother said, and after Natasha Moyo rolled over twice, she stretched out her hand from under the quilt and put on a serious expression. She is from Maoling (northeast of Xingping, Shaanxi today).Annotated "Book of Changes", "Shang", and she shared the same bed and lay down side by side.

Natasha's many evening visits, before the count came home from the club, were one of the greatest pleasures of mother and daughter. "What on earth are we going to talk about now? But I should tell you..." Natasha put her hand over her mother's mouth. "Just about Boris. . . I know," she said gravely. "That's what I'm here for. You don't have to tell me, I know. No, just tell me!" She dropped her hands. "Mom, tell me, is he enthusiastic?" "Natasha, you're sixteen, and I was married at your age. You say Boris is hot. He's hot. I love him like a son, but what do you want? . . . You're thinking What? You've got him completely out of his wits, I can see that..."

As the countess spoke these words, she looked back at her daughter.Natasha remained motionless looking at the sphinx carved from mahogany in the corner of the bed in front of her, so that the countess could only see her daughter's face in profile.The countess was amazed by the peculiar seriousness and pensive expression of this face. Natasha listened and thought. "Well, how about it?" she said. "You've got him completely out of his head. Why? What do you want from him? You can't marry him, you know that." "Why?" Natasha said without changing her posture.

"Because he's young, because he's poor, because he's a relation . . . because you can't love him yourself." "Why would you know?" "I know it's not very good, my dear." "If I would..." said Natasha. "Stop talking nonsense," said the countess. "If I wish..." "Natasha, I'm going to say seriously..." Without letting the countess finish her sentence, Natasha drew her large hand towards her, kissed the back of it, then the palm, turned her hand over, began to kiss the top knuckles of her fingers, then kissed her. between the knuckles, then kissed the knuckles, and whispered, "January, February, March, April, May."

"Mother, tell me, why are you silent? Tell me," she said, looking back at her mother, who looked at her daughter with such tender eyes that she seemed to have forgotten everything she was going to say. "How can this be done, my darling. Not everyone understands your relationship in childhood, and it is not good for you to see him so close to you in the eyes of other young people who often come to our house, mainly. Yes, it made him miserable for nothing. He may have found himself a rich and desirable mate, and he's going mad now." "Are you going crazy?" Natasha repeated.

"I'll tell you about myself. I have a cousin..." "I know—Kirila Matvich, he's an old man, isn't he?" "He wasn't always an old man. Listen, Natasha, I'm going to talk to Boris, he shouldn't be here so often..." "Since he wants to come, why shouldn't he come?" "Because I know it's not going to get anywhere." "Why would you know? No, mother, don't tell him that. What nonsense!" said Natasha, in the tone of someone trying to seize someone's property. "Oh, I'm not going to marry, and since he's happy and I'm happy, let him come." Natasha smiled slightly and glanced at her mother.

"I'm not going to get married, so I'll just live like this." She repeated. "What's the matter, my dear?" "Yes, just live like this. Well, I won't get married, but...it's necessary to live like this." "That's it, that's it," repeated the countess, shuddering all over, and suddenly gave a good old woman's laugh. "Shouldn't be laughing, stop laughing," cried Natasha, "you're making the whole bed wobble. You're very much like me, and you're a big laugher... Wait a minute... ’ She took both hands of the countess, kissed one joint of the little finger—June, and then kissed July and August of the other hand. "Mum, he's been in love too much, hasn't he? What do you think? Have some people been in love with you before? He's lovely, very, very lovely! I'm not too interested in him though—he's like a canteen clock." That's very narrow... don't you understand?... narrow, you know, light gray..."

"What a lie!" said the countess. Natasha continued: "Don't you understand? Nicholas will understand... Bezukhov— It's blue, dark blue with red in it, and it's square. " "You flirt with him too," said the countess, laughing. "No, he's a Mason, I've found out. He's fine, dark blue with reddish tints, how can I explain to you..." "My dear countess," said the count from behind the door, "you are not asleep?" Natasha jumped up in her bare feet, ran to her room with a pair of slippers in her hand. She couldn't sleep for a long time, she always thought this way: no one can understand all that she understands and all that is contained in her heart.

"Sonya?" She thought for a moment, and opened her eyes to the sleeping kitten with the big braid lying huddled up. "No, she can't understand! She's a noble person. She's in love with Nikolay and doesn't want to know anymore. Mother doesn't understand either. It's strange how clever I am, and how...she is lovely. ’ she went on, talking about herself in the third person, thinking that there was some very smart, brightest, best man talking about her...she had everything in her heart, and this man went on Said, "She is wonderfully bright, lovely and beautiful, wonderfully beautiful and agile--swimming, riding, excellent, and has a great voice!It can be said that a very pleasant voice! ’ She sang a short phrase from her favorite Cherubini opera, threw herself on the bed, laughed at the pleasant thought that she would soon fall asleep, and called Duni. Yasha blew out the candle, and before Dunyasha could leave the room, she entered another, happier dream world, where everything was as beautiful and relaxing as reality, but in another world. There is a scene, so it looks even more beautiful.

The next day the countess invited Boris to confer with him, and from that day on he never went to the Rostovs' house.