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Updated: June 24, 2025
On entering the ballroom the regular hum of voices, footsteps, and greetings deafened Natasha, and the light and glitter dazzled her still more. The host and hostess, who had already been standing at the door for half an hour repeating the same words to the various arrivals, "Charme de vous voir," * greeted the Rostovs and Peronskaya in the same manner. * "Delighted to see you."
Natasha looked joyfully at the familiar face of Pierre, "the buffoon," as Peronskaya had called him, and knew he was looking for them, and for her in particular. He had promised to be at the ball and introduce partners to her.
She was not concerned about the Emperor or any of those great people whom Peronskaya was pointing out she had but one thought: "Is it possible no one will ask me, that I shall not be among the first to dance? Is it possible that not one of all these men will notice me?
The men began to choose partners and take their places for the polonaise. Everyone moved back, and the Emperor came smiling out of the drawing room leading his hostess by the hand but not keeping time to the music. The host followed with Marya Antonovna Naryshkina; then came ambassadors, ministers, and various generals, whom Peronskaya diligently named.
Beautiful and clever... they say Prince is quite mad about her. But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even more run after." She pointed to a lady who was crossing the room followed by a very plain daughter. "She is a splendid match, a millionairess," said Peronskaya. "And look, here come her suitors."
"Never mind, I'll run it up, it won't show," said Dunyasha. "What a beauty a very queen!" said the nurse as she came to the door. "And Sonya! They are lovely!" At a quarter past ten they at last got into their carriages and started. But they had still to call at the Taurida Gardens. Peronskaya was quite ready.
Marya Ignatevna Peronskaya, a thin and shallow maid of honor at the court of the Dowager Empress, who was a friend and relation of the countess and piloted the provincial Rostovs in Petersburg high society, was to accompany them to the ball. They were to call for her at her house in the Taurida Gardens at ten o'clock, but it was already five minutes to ten, and the girls were not yet dressed.
"Whenever will you be ready?" asked the count coming to the door. "Here is some scent. Peronskaya must be tired of waiting." "It's ready, Miss," said the maid, holding up the shortened gauze dress with two fingers, and blowing and shaking something off it, as if by this to express a consciousness of the airiness and purity of what she held. Natasha began putting on the dress. "In a minute!
She realized that those noticing her liked her, and this observation helped to calm her. "There are some like ourselves and some worse," she thought. Peronskaya was pointing out to the countess the most important people at the ball. "That is the Dutch ambassador, do you see?
The strains of the polonaise, which had continued for a considerable time, had begun to sound like a sad reminiscence to Natasha's ears. She wanted to cry. Peronskaya had left them. The count was at the other end of the room. She and the countess and Sonya were standing by themselves as in the depths of a forest amid that crowd of strangers, with no one interested in them and not wanted by anyone.
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