When the count returned, Natásha was impolitely pleased and hastened to get away: at that moment she hated the stiff, elderly princess, who could place her in such an embarrassing position and had spent half an hour with her without once mentioning Prince Andréy. “I couldn’t begin talking about him in the presence of that Frenchwoman,” thought Natásha. The same thought was meanwhile tormenting Princess Márya. She knew what she ought to have said to Natásha, but she had been unable to say it because Mademoiselle Bourienne was in the way, and because, without knowing why, she felt it very difficult to speak of the marriage. When the count was already leaving the room, Princess Márya went up hurriedly to Natásha, took her by the hand, and said with a deep sigh:
“Wait, I must …”
Natásha glanced at her ironically without knowing why.
“Dear Natáli,” said Princess Márya, “I want you to know that I am glad my brother has found happiness. …”
She paused, feeling that she was not telling the truth. Natásha noticed this and guessed its reason.