Reading these letters, Nicholas felt a dread of their wanting totake him away from surroundings in which, protected from all theentanglements of life, he was living so calmly and quietly. He feltthat sooner or later he would have to re-enter that whirlpool of life,with its embarrassments and affairs to be straightened out, itsaccounts with stewards, quarrels, and intrigues, its ties, society,and with Sonya's love and his promise to her. It was all dreadfullydifficult and complicated; and he replied to his mother in cold,formal letters in French, beginning: "My dear Mamma," and ending:"Your obedient son," which said nothing of when he would return. In1810 he received letters from his parents, in which they told him ofNatasha's engagement to Bolkonski, and that the wedding would be ina year's time because the old prince made difficulties. This lettergrieved and mortified Nicholas. In the first place he was sorry thatNatasha, for whom he cared more than for anyone else in the family,should be lost to the home; and secondly, from his hussar point ofview, he regretted not to have been there to show that fellowBolkonski that connection with him was no such great honor afterall, and that if he loved Natasha he might dispense with permissionfrom his dotard father. For a moment he hesitated whether he shouldnot apply for leave in order to see Natasha before she was married,but then came the maneuvers, and considerations about Sonya andabout the confusion of their affairs, and Nicholas again put it off.But in the spring of that year, he received a letter from hismother, written without his father's knowledge, and that letterpersuaded him to return. She wrote that if he did not come and takematters in hand, their whole property would be sold by auction andthey would all have to go begging. The count was so weak, andtrusted Mitenka so much, and was so good-natured, that everybodytook advantage of him and things were going from bad to worse. "ForGod's sake, I implore you, come at once if you do not wish to makeme and the whole family wretched," wrote the countess.

　　This letter touched Nicholas. He had that common sense of amatter-of-fact man which showed him what he ought to do.

　　The right thing now was, if not to retire from the service, at anyrate to go home on leave. Why he had to go he did not know; butafter his after-dinner nap he gave orders to saddle Mars, an extremelyvicious gray stallion that had not been ridden for a long time, andwhen he returned with the horse all in a lather, he informed Lavrushka(Denisov's servant who had remained with him) and his comrades whoturned up in the evening that he was applying for leave and wasgoing home. Difficult and strange as it was for him to reflect that hewould go away without having heard from the staff- and this interestedhim extremely- whether he was promoted to a captaincy or would receivethe Order of St. Anne for the last maneuvers; strange as it was tothink that he would go away without having sold his three roans to thePolish Count Golukhovski, who was bargaining for the horses Rostov hadbetted he would sell for two thousand rubles; incomprehensible as itseemed that the ball the hussars were giving in honor of the PolishMademoiselle Przazdziecka (out of rivalry to the Uhlans who hadgiven one in honor of their Polish Mademoiselle Borzozowska) wouldtake place without him- he knew he must go away from this good, brightworld to somewhere where everything was stupid and confused. A weeklater he obtained his leave. His hussar comrades- not only those ofhis own regiment, but the whole brigade- gave Rostov a dinner to whichthe subscription was fifteen rubles a head, and at which there weretwo bands and two choirs of singers. Rostov danced the Trepak withMajor Basov; the tipsy officers tossed, embraced, and droppedRostov; the soldiers of the third squadron tossed him too, and shouted"hurrah!" and then they put him in his sleigh and escorted him asfar as the first post station.