Once she came to her mother, tried to say something, and suddenlybegan to cry. Her tears were those of an offended child who does notknow why it is being punished.

　　The countess began to soothe Natasha, who after first listening toher mother's words, suddenly interrupted her:

　　"Leave off, Mamma! I don't think, and don't want to think aboutit! He just came and then left off, left off..."

　　Her voice trembled, and she again nearly cried, but recovered andwent on quietly:

　　"And I don't at all want to get married. And I am afraid of him; Ihave now become quite calm, quite calm."

　　The day after this conversation Natasha put on the old dress whichshe knew had the peculiar property of conducing to cheerfulness in themornings, and that day she returned to the old way of life which shehad abandoned since the ball. Having finished her morning tea she wentto the ballroom, which she particularly liked for its loudresonance, and began singing her solfeggio. When she had finishedher first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room andsang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her. She listenedjoyfully (as though she had not expected it) to the charm of the notesreverberating, filling the whole empty ballroom, and slowly dyingaway; and all at once she felt cheerful. "What's the good of making somuch of it? Things are nice as it is," she said to herself, and shebegan walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on theresounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to thetoe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to theregular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had tothe sounds of her own voice. Passing a mirror she glanced into it."There, that's me!" the expression of her face seemed to say as shecaught sight of herself. "Well, and very nice too! I need nobody."

　　A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the roombut she would not let him, and having closed the door behind himcontinued her walk. That morning she had returned to her favoritemood- love of, and delight in, herself. "How charming that Natashais!" she said again, speaking as some third, collective, maleperson. "Pretty, a good voice, young, and in nobody's way if only theyleave her in peace." But however much they left her in peace she couldnot now be at peace, and immediately felt this.

　　In the hall the porch door opened, and someone asked, "At home?" andthen footsteps were heard. Natasha was looking at the mirror, butdid not see herself. She listened to the sounds in the hall. Whenshe saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this forcertain, though she hardly heard his voice through the closed doors.