《War And Peace》　Book8 　CHAPTER V
　　　　by Leo Tolstoy

BORIS had not succeeded in marrying a wealthy heiress in Petersburg, and it
was with that object that he had come to Moscow. In Moscow Boris found himself
hesitating between two of the wealthiest heiresses,- Julie and Princess Marya.
Though Princess Marya, in spite of her plainness, seemed to him anyway more
attractive than Julie, he felt vaguelyawkward in paying court to the former. In
his last conversation with her, on the old prince's name-day, she had met all
his attempts to talk of the emotions with irrelevant replies, and had obviously
not heard what he was saying.

Julie, on the contrary, received his attentions eagerly, though she showed it
in a peculiar fashion of her own.

Julie was seven-and-twenty. By the death of her two brothers she had become
extremely wealthy. She had by now become decidedly plain. But she believed
herself to be not merely as pretty as ever, but actually far more attractive
than she had ever been. She was confirmed in this delusion by having become a
very wealthy heiress, and also by the fact that as she grew older her society
involved less risk for men, and they could behave with more freedom in their
intercourse with her, and could profit by her suppers, her soirées, and
the lively society that gathered about her, without incurring any obligations to
her. A man who would have been afraid of going ten years before to a house where
there was a young girl of seventeen, for fear of compromising her and binding
himself, would now boldly visit her every day, and treat her not as a
marriageable girl, but as an acquaintance of no sex.

The Karagins' house was that winter one of the most agreeable and hospitable
houses in Moscow. In addition to the dinner-parties and soirées, to which
guests came by invitation, there were every day large informal gatherings at the
Karagins', principally of men, who had supper there at midnight and stayed on
till three o'clock in the morning. Julie did not miss a single ball,
entertainment, or theatre. Her dresses were always of the most fashionable. But
in spite of that, Julie appeared to have lost all illusions, told every one that
she had no faith in love or friendship, or any of the joys of life, and looked
for consolation only to the realm beyond. She had adopted the tone of a
girl who has suffered a great disappointment, a girl who has lost her lover or
been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of the kind had ever happened to
her, she was looked upon as having been disappointed in that way, and she did in
fact believe herself that she had suffered a great deal in her life. This
melancholy neither hindered her from enjoying herself nor hindered young men
from spending their time very agreeably in her society. Every guest who visited
at the house paid his tribute to the melancholy temper of the hostess, and then
proceeded to enjoy himself in society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, or
bouts rimés which were in fashion at the Karagins'. A few young men only,
among them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with these
young men she had more prolonged and secluded conversations on the nothingness
of all things earthly, and to them she opened her albums, full of mournful
sketches, sentences, and verses.

Julie was particularly gracious to Boris. She deplored his early
disillusionment with life, offered him those consolations of friendship she was
so well able to offer, having herself suffered so cruelly in life, and opened
her album to him. Boris sketched two trees in her album, and wrote under them:
"Rustic trees, your gloomy branches shed darkness and melancholy upon
me."

In another place he sketched a tomb and inscribed below it:-

Julie said that couplet was exquisite.

"There is something so ravishing in the smile of melancholy," she said to
Boris, repeating word for word a passage copied from a book. "It is a ray of
light in the shadow, a blend between grief and despair, which shows consolation
possible."

Upon that Boris wrote her the following verses in French:-

Julie played to Boris the most mournful nocturnes on the harp. Boris read
aloud to her the romance of Poor Liza, and more than once broke down in
reading it from the emotion that choked his utterance. When they met in general
society Julie and Boris gazed at one another as though they were the only people
existing in the world, disillusioned and comprehending each other.

Anna Mihalovna, who often visited the Karagins, took a hand at cards with the
mother, and meanwhile collected trustworthy information as to the portion that
Julie would receive on her marriage (her dowry was to consist of two estates in
the Penza province and forests in the Nizhnigorod province). With tender emotion
and deep resignation to the will of Providence, Anna Mihalovna looked on at the
refinedsadness that united her soul to the wealthy Julie.

"Still as charming and as melancholy as ever, my sweet Julie," she would say
to the daughter. "Boris says he finds spiritual refreshment in your house. He
has suffered such cruel disillusionment, and he is so sensitive," she would say
to the mother.

"Ah, my dear, how attached I have grown to Julie lately," she would say to
her son, "I can't tell you. But, indeed, who could help loving her! A creature
not of this earth! Ah, Boris! Boris!" She paused for a moment. "And how I feel
for her mother," she would go on. "She showed me today the letters and accounts
from Penza (they have an immense estate there), and she, poor thing, with no one
to help her. They do take such advantage of her!"

Boris heard his mother with a faintlyperceptible smile. He laughed blandly
at her simple-hearted wiles, but he listened to her and sometimes questioned her
carefully about the Penza and Nizhnigorod estates.

Julie had long been expecting an offer from her melancholy adorer, and was
fully prepared to accept it. But a sort of secret feeling of repulsion for her,
for her passionate desire to be married, for her affectation and a feeling of
horror at renouncing all possibility of real love made Boris still delay. The
term of his leave was drawing to a close. Whole days at a time, and every day he
spent at the Karagins'; and each day Boris resolved, as he thought things over,
that he would make an offer on the morrow. But in Julie's presence, as he
watched her red face and her chin, almost always sprinkled with powder, her
moist eyes, and the expression of her countenance, which betokened a continual
readiness to pass at once from melancholy to the unnatural ecstasies of conjugal
love, Boris could not utter the decisive word, although in imagination he had
long regarded himself as the owner of the Penza and Nizhnigorod estates, and had
disposed of the expenditure of their several revenues. Julie saw the hesitation
of Boris, and the idea did sometimes occur to her that she was distasteful to
him. But feminine self-flattery promptly afforded her comfort, and she assured
herself that it was love that made him retiring. Her melancholy was, however,
beginning to pass into irritability, and not long before the end of Boris's
leave she adopted a decisive plan of action. Just before the expiration of
Boris's leave there appeared in Moscow, and-it need hardly be said-also in the
drawing-room of the Karagins', no less a person than Anatole Kuragin, and Julie,
abruptly abandoning her melancholy, became exceedingly lively and cordial to
Kuragin.

"My dear," said Anna Mihalovna to her son, "I know from a trust-worthy source
that Prince Vassily is sending his son to Moscow to marry him to Julie. I am so
fond of Julie that I should be most sorry for her. What do you think about it,
my dear?" said Anna Mihalovna.

Boris was mortified at the idea of being unsuccessful, of having wasted all
that month of tedious, melancholycourtship of Julie, and of seeing all the
revenues of those Penza estates-which he had mentally assigned to the various
purposes for which he needed them-pass into other hands, especially into the
hands of that fool Anatole. He drove off to the Karagins' with the firm
determination to make an offer. Julie met him with a gay and careless face,
casually mentioned how much she had enjoyed the ball of the evening, and asked
him when he was leaving. Although Boris had come with the intention of speaking
of his love, and was therefore resolved to take a tender tone, he began to speak
irritably of the fickleness of woman; saying that women could so easily pass
from sadness to joy, and their state of mind depended entirely on what sort of
man happened to be paying them attention. Julie was offended, and said that that
was quite true, indeed, that a woman wanted variety, and that always the same
thing would bore any one.

"Then I would advise you..." Boris was beginning, meaning to say something
cutting; but at that instant the mortifying reflection occurred to him that he
might leave Moscow without having attained his object, and having wasted his
efforts in vain (an experience he had never had yet). He stopped short in the
middle of a sentence, dropped his eyes, to avoid seeing her disagreeably
exasperated and irresolute face, and said, "But it was not to quarrel with you
that I have come here. On the contrary..." He glanced at her to make sure whether
he could go on. All irritation had instantly vanished from her face, and her
uneasy and imploring eyes were fastened upon him in greedy expectation.

"I can always manage so as to see very little of her," thought Boris. "And
the thing's been begun and must be finished!" He flushed crimson, raised his
eyes to her face, and said to her, "You know my feeling for you!" There was no
need to say more. Julie's countenance beamed with triumph and self-satisfaction;
but she forced Boris to say everything that is usually said on such occasions,
to say that he loved her, and had never loved any woman more than her. She knew
that for her Penza estates and her Nizhnigorod forests she could demand that,
and she got all she demanded.

The young engaged couple, with no further allusions to trees that enfolded
them in gloom and melancholy, made plans for a brilliant establishment in
Petersburg, paid visits, and made every preparation for a splendid wedding.