"Here at least we shall have the benefit of your company all toourselves, dear prince," said the little princess (of course, inFrench) to Prince Vasili. "It's not as at Annette's* receptionswhere you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!"

　　*Anna Pavlovna.

　　"Ah, but you won't talk politics to me like Annette!"

　　"And our little tea table?"

　　"Oh, yes!"

　　"Why is it you were never at Annette's?" the little princess askedAnatole. "Ah, I know, I know," she said with a sly glance, "yourbrother Hippolyte told me about your goings on. Oh!" and she shook herfinger at him, "I have even heard of your doings in Paris!"

　　"And didn't Hippolyte tell you?" asked Prince Vasili, turning to hisson and seizing the little princess' arm as if she would have run awayand he had just managed to catch her, "didn't he tell you how hehimself was pining for the dear princess, and how she showed him thedoor? Oh, she is a pearl among women, Princess," he added, turningto Princess Mary.

　　When Paris was mentioned, Mademoiselle Bourienne for her part seizedthe opportunity of joining in the general current of recollections.

　　She took the liberty of inquiring whether it was long sinceAnatole had left Paris and how he had liked that city. Anatoleanswered the Frenchwoman very readily and, looking at her with asmile, talked to her about her native land. When he saw the prettylittle Bourienne, Anatole came to the conclusion that he would notfind Bald Hills dull either. "Not at all bad!" he thought, examiningher, "not at all bad, that little companion! I hope she will bring heralong with her when we're married, la petite est gentille."*

　　*The little one is charming.

　　The old prince dressed leisurely in his study, frowning andconsidering what he was to do. The coming of these visitors annoyedhim. "What are Prince Vasili and that son of his to me? PrinceVasili is a shallow braggart and his son, no doubt, is a finespecimen," he grumbled to himself. What angered him was that thecoming of these visitors revived in his mind an unsettled questionhe always tried to stifle, one about which he always deceived himself.The question was whether he could ever bring himself to part fromhis daughter and give her to a husband. The prince never directlyasked himself that question, knowing beforehand that he would haveto answer it justly, and justice clashed not only with his feelingsbut with the very possibility of life. Life without Princess Mary,little as he seemed to value her, was unthinkable to him. "And whyshould she marry?" he thought. "To be unhappy for certain. There'sLise, married to Andrew- a better husband one would think could hardlybe found nowadays- but is she contented with her lot? And who wouldmarry Marie for love? Plain and awkward! They'll take her for herconnections and wealth. Are there no women living unmarried, andeven the happier for it?" So thought Prince Bolkonski whiledressing, and yet the question he was always putting off demanded animmediate answer. Prince Vasili had brought his son with the evidentintention of proposing, and today or tomorrow he would probably askfor an answer. His birth and position in society were not bad."Well, I've nothing against it," the prince said to himself, "but hemust be worthy of her. And that is what we shall see."