| BOOK EIGHT: 1811 - 12
2. CHAPTER II
 (continued)Latterly that private life had become very trying for Princess Mary.
 There in Moscow she was deprived of her greatest pleasures- talks with
 the pilgrims and the solitude which refreshed her at Bald Hills- and
 she had none of the advantages and pleasures of city life. She did not
 go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her
 go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going
 out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening
 parties. She had quite abandoned the hope of getting married. She
 saw the coldness and malevolence with which the old prince received
 and dismissed the young men, possible suitors, who sometimes
 appeared at their house. She had no friends: during this visit to
 Moscow she had been disappointed in the two who had been nearest to
 her. Mademoiselle Bourienne, with whom she had never been able to be
 quite frank, had now become unpleasant to her, and for various reasons
 Princess Mary avoided her. Julie, with whom she had corresponded for
 the last five years, was in Moscow, but proved to be quite alien to
 her when they met. Just then Julie, who by the death of her brothers
 had become one of the richest heiresses in Moscow, was in the full
 whirl of society pleasures. She was surrounded by young men who, she
 fancied, had suddenly learned to appreciate her worth. Julie was at
 that stage in the life of a society woman when she feels that her last
 chance of marrying has come and that her fate must be decided now or
 never. On Thursdays Princess Mary remembered with a mournful smile
 that she now had no one to write to, since Julie- whose presence
 gave her no pleasure was here and they met every week. Like the old
 emigre who declined to marry the lady with whom he had spent his
 evenings for years, she regretted Julie's presence and having no one
 to write to. In Moscow Princess Mary had no one to talk to, no one
 to whom to confide her sorrow, and much sorrow fell to her lot just
 then. The time for Prince Andrew's return and marriage was
 approaching, but his request to her to prepare his father for it had
 not been carried out; in fact, it seemed as if matters were quite
 hopeless, for at every mention of the young Countess Rostova the old
 prince (who apart from that was usually in a bad temper) lost
 control of himself. Another lately added sorrow arose from the lessons
 she gave her six year-old nephew. To her consternation she detected in
 herself in relation to little Nicholas some symptoms of her father's
 irritability. However often she told herself that she must not get
 irritable when teaching her nephew, almost every time that, pointer in
 hand, she sat down to show him the French alphabet, she so longed to
 pour her own knowledge quickly and easily into the child- who was
 already afraid that Auntie might at any moment get angry- that at
 his slightest inattention she trembled, became flustered and heated,
 raised her voice, and sometimes pulled him by the arm and put him in
 the corner. Having put him in the corner she would herself begin to
 cry over her cruel, evil nature, and little Nicholas, following her
 example, would sob, and without permission would leave his corner,
 come to her, pull her wet hands from her face, and comfort her. But
 what distressed the princess most of all was her father's
 irritability, which was always directed against her and had of late
 amounted to cruelty. Had he forced her to prostrate herself to the
 ground all night, had he beaten her or made her fetch wood or water,
 it would never have entered her mind to think her position hard; but
 this loving despot- the more cruel because he loved her and for that
 reason tormented himself and her- knew how not merely to hurt and
 humiliate her deliberately, but to show her that she was always to
 blame for everything. Of late he had exhibited a new trait that
 tormented Princess Mary more than anything else; this was his
 ever-increasing intimacy with Mademoiselle Bourienne. The idea that at
 the first moment of receiving the news of his son's intentions had
 occurred to him in jest- that if Andrew got married he himself would
 marry Bourienne- had evidently pleased him, and latterly he had
 persistently, and as it seemed to Princess Mary merely to offend
 her, shown special endearments to the companion and expressed his
 dissatisfaction with his daughter by demonstrations of love of
 Bourienne. |