BOOK TWELVE: 1812
7. CHAPTER VII
(continued)
"There is one thing I wanted to tell you, Princess," said Rostov.
"It is that if your brother, Prince Andrew Nikolievich, were not
living, it would have been at once announced in the Gazette, as he
is a colonel."
The princess looked at him, not grasping what he was saying, but
cheered by the expression of regretful sympathy on his face.
"And I have known so many cases of a splinter wound" (the Gazette
said it was a shell) "either proving fatal at once or being very
slight," continued Nicholas. "We must hope for the best, and I am
sure..."
Princess Mary interrupted him.
"Oh, that would be so dread..." she began and, prevented by
agitation from finishing, she bent her head with a movement as
graceful as everything she did in his presence and, looking up at
him gratefully, went out, following her aunt.
That evening Nicholas did not go out, but stayed at home to settle
some accounts with the horse dealers. When he had finished that
business it was already too late to go anywhere but still too early to
go to bed, and for a long time he paced up and down the room,
reflecting on his life, a thing he rarely did.
Princess Mary had made an agreeable impression on him when he had
met her in Smolensk province. His having encountered her in such
exceptional circumstances, and his mother having at one time mentioned
her to him as a good match, had drawn his particular attention to her.
When he met her again in Voronezh the impression she made on him was
not merely pleasing but powerful. Nicholas had been struck by the
peculiar moral beauty he observed in her at this time. He was,
however, preparing to go away and it had not entered his head to
regret that he was thus depriving himself of chances of meeting her.
But that day's encounter in church had, he felt, sunk deeper than
was desirable for his peace of mind. That pale, sad, refined face,
that radiant look, those gentle graceful gestures, and especially
the deep and tender sorrow expressed in all her features agitated
him and evoked his sympathy. In men Rostov could not bear to see the
expression of a higher spiritual life (that was why he did not like
Prince Andrew) and he referred to it contemptuously as philosophy
and dreaminess, but in Princess Mary that very sorrow which revealed
the depth of a whole spiritual world foreign to him was an
irresistible attraction.
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