1 Petya and Natasha surprised Nicholas most.
2 Petya paced the room in silence for a time.
3 The door, having let Petya in, closed again.
4 Sonya and fat little Petya doubled up with laughter.
5 "I'm not a goose, but they are who cry about trifles," said Petya.
6 He could not distinguish which was Papa, which Natasha, and which Petya.
7 It was Natasha, Sonya, and Petya, who had come to see whether they were getting up.
8 "And I know why she'd be ashamed," said Petya, offended by Natasha's previous remark.
9 Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya now entered the room, and the reading of the letter began.
10 "Not more stupid than you, madam," said the nine-year-old Petya, with the air of an old brigadier.
11 Sometimes the old count would come up, kiss Prince Andrew, and ask his advice about Petya's education or Nicholas' service.
12 Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing.
13 The letters were from the old count, the countess, Petya, Vera, Natasha, and Sonya, and finally there were six thousand rubles for his outfit and various other things the old count sent to his son.
14 Meanwhile, Petya, having found and seized the sabers in the outer room, with the delight boys feel at the sight of a military elder brother, and forgetting that it was unbecoming for the girls to see men undressed, opened the bedroom door.
15 After a brief description of the campaign and the two battles in which he had taken part, and his promotion, Nicholas said that he kissed his father's and mother's hands asking for their blessing, and that he kissed Vera, Natasha, and Petya.
16 At that moment his home life, jokes with Petya, talks with Sonya, duets with Natasha, piquet with his father, and even his comfortable bed in the house on the Povarskaya rose before him with such vividness, clearness, and charm that it seemed as if it were all a lost and unappreciated bliss, long past.
17 Meanwhile the younger generation: Boris, the officer, Anna Mikhaylovna's son; Nicholas, the undergraduate, the count's eldest son; Sonya, the count's fifteen-year-old niece, and little Petya, his youngest boy, had all settled down in the drawing room and were obviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum the excitement and mirth that shone in all their faces.
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