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In winter, except for business excursions, he spent most of his time at home making himself one with his family and entering into all the details of his children's relations with their mother. The harmony between him and his wife grew closer and closer and he daily discovered fresh spiritual treasures in her. From the time of his marriage Sonya had lived in his house.
"No, Papa is not back yet," said Sonya. "Nicholas, have you come? Come here, dear!" called the old countess from the drawing room. Nicholas went to her, kissed her hand, and sitting down silently at her table began to watch her hands arranging the cards. From the dancing room, they still heard the laughter and merry voices trying to persuade Natasha to sing. "All wight!
Boris came to the Rostovs' box, received their congratulations very simply, and raising his eyebrows with an absent-minded smile conveyed to Natasha and Sonya his fiancee's invitation to her wedding, and went away. Natasha with a gay, coquettish smile talked to him, and congratulated on his approaching wedding that same Boris with whom she had formerly been in love.
Little as Nicholas had occupied himself with Sonya of late, something seemed to give way within him at this news. Dolokhov was a suitable and in some respects a brilliant match for the dowerless, orphan girl. From the point of view of the old countess and of society it was out of the question for her to refuse him.
The Russian officer saluted as though Nona had been a superior officer. "I was on my way at the present moment to Sonya Valesky's home to inquire for her. This is the first hour of freedom I have been able to command all day. But tell me what brings you back to the fortress at this time? Has Sonya grown worse or is she better?" Here was her opportunity.
It seemed so strange that Sonya could be talking in such an everyday fashion, as if her visit were being made under ordinary circumstances. Not a word did she say of her own sorrow or the tragedy that lay ahead of her. Nona could only fight back the tears.
Naturally her marriage had been a disappointment. At this point in Sonya Valesky's letter, Nona Davis began to have a faint appreciation of the situation. She remembered the narrow, conservative life of the old south and that her father had lived largely upon traditions of wealth and family, teaching her little else.
But he never thought about her as he had thought of all the young ladies without exception whom he had met in society, nor as he had for a long time, and at one time rapturously, thought about Sonya.
Indeed, in Eugenia fashion she had frankly stated this fact to the older woman. Now how much less might she care for their intimacy with the exiled Russian. Yet Sonya was going as an uninvited guest to Eugenia's home. There had been no time to ask permission. It was true Barbara had written the entire story to Eugenia as soon as Sonya Valesky was released from prison.
Here Anna Orlaff, Nona's mother, had made her a visit and had then gone away south to New Orleans and soon afterwards married. For many years the younger girl had not seen her friend again. She had received letters from her, however, and learned that her marriage was not a success. Sonya Valesky did her best to explain the situation to Nona.
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