BOOK FOUR: 1806
16. CHAPTER XVI
It was long since Rostov had felt such enjoyment from music as he
did that day. But no sooner had Natasha finished her barcarolle than
reality again presented itself. He got up without saying a word and
went downstairs to his own room. A quarter of an hour later the old
count came in from his Club, cheerful and contented. Nicholas, hearing
him drive up, went to meet him.
"Well- had a good time?" said the old count, smiling gaily and
proudly at his son.
Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into
sobs. The count was lighting his pipe and did not notice his son's
condition.
"Ah, it can't be avoided!" thought Nicholas, for the first and
last time. And suddenly, in the most casual tone, which made him
feel ashamed feel of himself, he said, as if merely asking his
father to let him have the carriage to drive to town:
"Papa, I have come on a matter of business. I was nearly forgetting.
I need some money."
"Dear me!" said his father, who was in a specially good humor. "I
told you it would not be enough. How much?"
"Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless
smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a
little, I mean a good deal, a great deal- forty three thousand."
"What! To whom?... Nonsense!" cried the count, suddenly reddening
with an apoplectic flush over neck and nape as old people do.
"I promised to pay tomorrow," said Nicholas.
"Well!..." said the old count, spreading out his arms and sinking
helplessly on the sofa.
"It can't be helped It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a
bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as
a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his
crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his
forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it
happens to everyone!
|