“I was so glad to tell all about it to-day; it was hard and painful, and yet I was glad to … very glad,” said Natasha; “I am sure that he really loved him. That was why I told him … it didn’t matter my telling him?” she asked suddenly, blushing.

“Pierre? Oh, no! How good he is,” said Princess Marya.

“Do you know, Marie,” said Natasha, suddenly, with a mischievous smile, such as Princess Marya had not seen for a long while on her face. “He has become so clean and smooth and fresh; as though he had just come out of a bath; do you understand? Out of a moral bath. Isn’t it so?”

“Yes,” said Princess Marya. “He has gained a great deal.”

“And his short jacket, and his cropped hair; exactly as though he had just come out of a bath … papa used sometimes …”

“I can understand how he” (Prince Andrey) “cared for no one else as he did for him,” said Princess Marya.

“Yes, and he is so different from him. They say men are better friends when they are utterly different. That must be true; he is not a bit like him in anything, is he?”

“Yes, and he is such a splendid fellow.”

“Well, good-night,” answered Natasha. And the same mischievous smile lingered a long while as though forgotten on her face.