stifled all sympathy for the man they both liked.
“Natásha does not know yet, but he is going with us,” said Sónya.
“You say he is dying?”
Sónya nodded.
The countess put her arms around Sónya and began to cry.
“The ways of God are past finding out!” she thought, feeling that the Almighty Hand, hitherto unseen, was becoming manifest in all that was now taking place.
“Well, Mamma? Everything is ready. What’s the matter?” asked Natásha, as with animated face she ran into the room.
“Nothing,” answered the countess. “If everything is ready let us start.”
And the countess bent over her reticule to hide her agitated face. Sónya embraced Natásha and kissed her.
Natásha looked at her inquiringly.
“What is it? What has happened?”
“Nothing … No …”
“Is it something very bad for me? What is it?” persisted Natásha with her