Читать книгу War and Peace: Original Version - Лев Толстой, Leo Tolstoy, Liev N. Tolstói - Страница 31

When Anna Mikhailovna and her son left to go to Count Kirill Vladimirovich Bezukhov’s house, the countess sat alone for a long time, applying her handkerchief to her eyes. Eventually she rang.

“What is the matter, my dear,” she said angrily to the girl who had kept her waiting for several minutes. “Do you not wish to serve here? Then I’ll find another place for you.”

The countess was feeling grief-stricken at her friend’s humiliating poverty and was therefore in a bad humour, which always expressed itself in her calling the servant girl “my dear” and addressing her formally.

“Sorry, ma’am,” said the maid.

“Ask the count to come to me.”

The count waddled up to his wife with a rather guilty air, as always.

“Well now, my little countess. What a fine Madeira and woodcock sauté there will be! I have tried it; I was right to give a thousand roubles for Taras. He’s well worth it!”

He sat down beside his wife, propping his arms rakishly on his knees … and ruffling up his grey hair. “What is your pleasure, little countess?”

“Now then, my friend, what’s that stain you have there?” she said, pointing at his waistcoat. “It is the sauté, I suppose,” she added, smiling. “Look, count, I need some money.”

Her face grew sad.

“Ah, my little countess!” said the count and he began busily taking out his wallet.

“I need a lot, count, I need five hundred roubles.” And taking out her batiste lawn handkerchief, she rubbed her husband’s waistcoat with it.

“Straight away, straight away. Hey, is anyone there?” he shouted in the kind of voice only used by people who are certain that those they are calling will come dashing headlong at their summons. “Send Mitenka to me!”

Mitenka, a nobleman’s son who had been raised in the count’s house, and who now managed all his affairs, entered the room with silent steps.

“Now then, my dear chap,” the count said to the deferential young man, “will you bring me …” he thought for a moment. “Yes, 700 roubles, yes. And be sure not to bring torn and dirty notes like last time, but good ones, for the countess.”

“Yes, Mitenka, please, nice clean ones,” said the countess, sighing sadly.

“Your excellency, when do you wish me to bring it?” said Mitenka. “If you please, may I know what … Then, please, do not bother yourself,” he added, noticing that the count had already begun breathing rapidly and heavily, which was always a sign of the onset of rage. “I almost forgot … Do you wish me to bring it this very minute?”

“Yes, yes, do, bring it now. Give it to the countess.”

“Pure gold, that Mitenka of mine,” the count added, smiling, when the young man left the room. “Nothing’s ever impossible. I can’t stand that sort of thing. With him, everything’s possible.”

“Ah, money, count, money, how much grief it causes in the world!” said the countess. “But I do need this money very badly.”

“You, my little countess, are a notorious spendthrift,” said the count and, after kissing his wife’s hand, he went back to his study.

When Anna Mikhailovna came back from Count Bezukhov’s house, the money, all in brand new notes, was already lying on the low table under the countess’s handkerchief, and Anna Mikhailovna noticed that the countess seemed agitated about something and looked sad.

“Well then, my friend?” asked the countess.

“Ah, what a terrible state he is in! He is unrecognisable, he is so bad, so bad: I spent a moment with him and didn’t even say two words …”

“Annette, for God’s sake, do not refuse me,” the countess said suddenly, blushing, which looked very strange with her ageing, thin, solemn face, as she took the money out from under the handkerchief.

Anna Mikhailovna instantly realised what the matter was and eagerly leaned over in order to hug the countess at the proper moment.

“This is for Boris from me to have his uniform made …”

Anna Mikhailovna embraced her eagerly and wept. The countess wept too. They wept because they were friends, and because they were kind-hearted, and because they, who had been friends from their youth, were concerned with such a base item as money, and because their youth was past and gone … But for both, their tears were gratifying.