'Sonya, you've read that letter?' she demanded.
'Yes,' answered Sonya softly.
Natasha smiled rapturously.
'No, Sonya, I can't any longer!' she said. 'I can't hide it from you any longer. You know, we love one another! Sonya, darling, he writes... Sonya...'
Sonya stared open-eyed at Natasha, unable to believe her ears.
'And Bolkonski?' she asked.
'Ah, Sonya, if you only knew how happy I am!' cried Natasha. 'You don't know what love is....'
'But, Natasha, can that be all over?'
Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not grasp the question.
'Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?' said Sonya.
'Oh, you don't understand anything! Don't talk nonsense, just listen!' said Natasha, with momentary vexation.
'But I can't believe it,' insisted Sonya. 'I don't understand. How is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly... Why, you have only seen him three times! Natasha, I don't believe you, you're joking! In three days to forget everything and so...'
'Three days?' said Natasha. 'It seems to me I've loved him a hundred years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can't understand it.... Sonya, wait a bit, sit here,' and Natasha embraced and kissed her.
'I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it too, but it's only now that I feel such love. It's not the same as before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! Whatever he orders I shall do. You don't understand that. What can I do? What can I do, Sonya?' cried Natasha with a happy yet frightened expression.
'But think what you are doing,' cried Sonya. 'I can't leave it like this. This secret correspondence... How could you let him go so far?' she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal.
'I told you that I have no will,' Natasha replied. 'Why can't you understand? I love him!'
'Then I won't let it come to that... I shall tell!' cried Sonya, bursting into tears.
'What do you mean? For God's sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!' declared Natasha. 'You want me to be miserable, you want us to be separated....'
When she saw Natasha's fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity for her friend.
'But what has happened between you?' she asked. 'What has he said to you? Why doesn't he come to the house?'
Natasha did not answer her questions.
'For God's sake, Sonya, don't tell anyone, don't torture me,' Natasha entreated. 'Remember no one ought to interfere in such matters! I have confided in you....'
'But why this secrecy? Why doesn't he come to the house?' asked Sonya. 'Why doesn't he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince Andrew gave you complete freedom--if it is really so; but I don't believe it! Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can be?'
Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment. Evidently this question presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know how to answer it.
'I don't know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!'
Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously.
'If there were reasons...' she began.
But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm.
'Sonya, one can't doubt him! One can't, one can't! Don't you understand?' she cried.
'Does he love you?'
'Does he love me?' Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her friend's lack of comprehension. 'Why, you have read his letter and you have seen him.'
'But if he is dishonorable?'
'He! dishonorable? If you only knew!' exclaimed Natasha.
'If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions or cease seeing you; and if you won't do this, I will. I will write to him, and I will tell Papa!' said Sonya resolutely.
'But I can't live without him!' cried Natasha.
'Natasha, I don't understand you. And what are you saying! Think of your father and of Nicholas.'
'I don't want anyone, I don't love anyone but him. How dare you say he is dishonorable? Don't you know that I love him?' screamed Natasha. 'Go away, Sonya! I don't want to quarrel with you, but go, for God's sake go! You see how I am suffering!' Natasha cried angrily, in a voice of despair and repressed irritation. Sonya burst into sobs and ran from the room.
Natasha went to the table and without a moment's reflection wrote that answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her
