War And Peace

Then, unable to contain himself any longer, he burst out laughing, and just managed to say through all the laughter, ‘And everybody got to know about it . . .’

And that’s all there was to the story. Nobody could understand why he had told it, or why he had insisted on telling it in Russian, and yet Anna Pavlovna and several other people appreciated the genteel diplomacy of Prince Hippolyte in so nicely putting an end to Monsieur Pierre’s unpleasant and intemperate outburst. After this story the conversation broke down into chitchat about the last ball and the next one, the theatre, and where and when who would meet whom.

CHAPTER 5

Thanking Anna Pavlovna for a delightful evening, the guests began to go home.

Pierre was ungainly, stout, quite tall and possessed of huge red hands. It was said of him that he had no idea how to enter a drawing-room and was worse still at withdrawing from one, or saying something nice as he left. He was also absent-minded. He stood up now, picked up a general’s nicely plumed three-cornered hat instead of his own, and held on to it, pulling at the feathers, until the general asked for it back. But all his absent-mindedness and his inability to enter a drawing-room or talk properly once inside it were redeemed by his expression of good-natured simplicity and modesty. Anna Pavlovna turned to him, forgiving his outburst with Christian humility, nodded and said, ‘I hope we shall see you again, but I also hope you will change your ideas, my dear Monsieur Pierre.’

She spoke, but he didn’t answer. All he did was bow and show everyone another of his smiles, a smile that simply said, ‘Never mind ideas, look what a nice, good-hearted fellow I am.’ And everyone, including Anna Pavlovna, couldn’t help but agree. Prince Andrey had gone out into the hall, and as he offered his shoulders to the servant ready with his cloak, he listened indifferently to his wife as she chattered with Prince Hippolyte, who had come along with her. Hippolyte stood close to the pregnant little princess who looked so pretty, and stared at her through his lorgnette.

‘Go back inside, Annette, you’ll catch cold,’ said the little princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. ‘It is settled, then,’ she added quietly.

Anna Pavlovna had managed to have a few words with Liza about the match she was setting up between Anatole and the little princess’s sister-in-law.

‘I’m relying on you, my dear,’ said Anna Pavlovna, no less quietly. ‘Write to her and let me know how her father sees things. Au revoir!’ And she left the hall.

Prince Hippolyte moved in on the little princess and, bending down with his face close to hers, started speaking to her in a half-whisper.

Two servants, one the princess’s, the other his own, stood by with shawl and coat waiting for them to finish talking. The French was incomprehensible to them, but the servants’ faces suggested for all the world that they did understand what was being said, though they would never show it. The princess, as always, smiled as she talked and laughed when she listened.

‘I’m so glad I didn’t go to the Ambassador’s,’ Prince Hippolyte was saying. ‘Such a bore . . . This has been a delightful evening, hasn’t it? Delightful.’

‘They say it will be a very fine ball,’ answered the little princess, drawing up her downy little lip. ‘All our pretty women will be there.’

‘Not all of them. You won’t be there,’ said Prince Hippolyte, with a happy laugh. He then snatched the shawl from the servant, shoving him out of the way, and began draping it around the little princess. Either from awkwardness or deliberately – no one could have said which – he kept his arms round her for some time after the shawl had been put on, seeming to clasp the young woman in his embrace.

With good grace and still smiling, she wriggled free, turned and glanced at her husband. Prince Andrey’s eyes were closed: he seemed to be weary and drowsy.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked his wife, looking over her head.

Prince Hippolyte hurried into his long coat. It was the last word in fashion, going right down to his heels, and he caught his foot in it as he ran out on to the steps after the princess. A servant was assisting her into the carriage. ‘Au revoir

, Princess!’ he yelled, his tongue tripping over things just like his legs.

The princess picked up her gown, and took her seat, settling back into the darkness of the carriage while her husband was arranging his sword. Prince Hippolyte pretended to help, but all he did was get in the way.

‘If you don’t mind, sir,’ said Prince Andrey, curtly and pointedly in Russian, to Prince Hippolyte, who was standing in his way.

‘I’ll see you soon, Pierre,’ said the same voice in warm and friendly tones.

The coachman jerked forward, and the carriage rattled off. Prince Hippolyte honked with laughter, as he stood on the steps waiting for the viscount, having promised to drop him off at home.