Pierre's affair with Dolokhov was hushed up and, in spite of the Emperor's severity at that time regarding duels, neither of the antagonists nor their seconds suffered. But the story of the duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, became the talk of society. Pierre, who had been looked upon with patronizing condescension when he was an illegitimate son, who had been flattered and extolled when he was the best match in the Russian Empire, had lost much of his standing in society after his marriage — when young ladies and mothers had nothing more to expect of him — the more so because he neither knew how, nor wished, to court society's favor. Now he alone was blamed for what had happened; they said that he was a stupidly jealous man, subject to the same fits of bloodthirsty frenzy as his father. And when Helene returned to Petersburg after Pierre's departure, she was received by all her acquaintances not only cordially, but with a shade of deference due to her misfortune. When the conversation turned upon her husband, Helene assumed a dignified expression, which, though she did not understand its significance, she had adopted with her characteristic tact. This expression seemed to say that she had resolved to bear her affliction without complaining, and that her husband was a cross sent to her by God. Prince Vasily expressed his opinion more frankly. He would shrug his shoulders when the conversation turned on Pierre and, pointing to his forehead, would say:

"Un cerveau fêlé — je le disais toujours." ["A half-crazy brain — I always said so."]

"I said it beforehand," Anna Pavlovna would say about Pierre, "I said it right then and there, and before anyone else" (she insisted on her priority), "that he was an insane young man, corrupted by the depraved ideas of the age. I said so back when everyone was enraptured by him, when he had just arrived from abroad, and when, you remember, he posed as a sort of Marat one evening at my house. And how did it end? Even then I was against this marriage, and foretold all that has come to pass."

Anna Pavlovna continued to give her soirées on her free days as she used to, such soirées as only she had the gift for arranging — gatherings at which the first order of business was to collect la crême de la véritable bonne société, la fine fleur de l'essence intellectuelle de la société de Pétersbourg [the cream of truly good society, the fine flower of the intellectual essence of Petersburg society], as Anna Pavlovna herself said. In addition to this refined selection of society, Anna Pavlovna's soirées were distinguished by the fact that each time she served her society some new, interesting person, and that nowhere else did the degree of the political thermometer, which marked the mood of the legitimist court society of Petersburg, manifest itself so obviously and firmly.

At the end of 1806, when all the sad details of Napoleon's destruction of the Prussian army at Jena and Auerstedt and the surrender of most of the Prussian fortresses had already been received, when our troops had already entered Prussia and our second war with Napoleon had begun, Anna Pavlovna gathered a soirée at her house. La crême de la véritable bonne société [The cream of truly good society] consisted of the enchanting and unfortunate Helene, abandoned by her husband; of Mortemart; of the enchanting Prince Ippolit, just arrived from Vienna; of two diplomats; of the aunt; of a young man known in the salon simply as d'un homme de beaucoup de mérite [a man of great merit]; of a newly appointed maid of honor with her mother; and of several other less noticeable persons.

The novelty Anna Pavlovna was treating her guests to that evening was Boris Drubetskoy, who had just arrived as a courier from the Prussian army, where he was serving as adjutant to a very important personage.

The degree of the political thermometer indicated to society at this soirée was the following: however much all the European sovereigns and commanders might try to indulge Bonaparte in order to cause me, and us in general, these annoyances and griefs, our opinion of Bonaparte cannot alter. We shall not cease to express our unfeigned way of thinking on that score, and can only say to the Prussian king and others: "So much the worse for you. Tu l'as voulu, George Dandin, [You wanted this, George Dandin [A quote from Molière's play, meaning: You brought it on yourself].] that is all we can say." Such was the reading of the political thermometer at Anna Pavlovna's soirée. When Boris, who was to be presented to the guests, entered the drawing room, almost the whole company was already gathered, and the conversation, guided by Anna Pavlovna, was about our diplomatic relations with Austria and the hope of an alliance with her.

Boris, in an elegant adjutant's uniform, grown more mature, fresh and rosy, entered the drawing room freely and was led, as was customary, to greet the aunt, and then brought back to the general circle.

Anna Pavlovna gave him her dry hand to kiss, introduced him to several persons unknown to him, and whispered a definition of each one to him.

"Le Prince Hyppolite Kouraguine — charmant jeune homme. M-r Kroug chargé d'affaires de Kopenhague — un esprit profond," and simply: "M-r Shittoff un homme de beaucoup de mérite" ["Prince Ippolit Kuragin — a charming young man. Mr. Krug, Copenhagen chargé d'affaires — a profound mind," and simply: "Mr. Shitov — a man of great merit."] regarding the one who bore this title.

Boris, during this time of his service, thanks to the cares of Anna Mikhailovna, his own tastes, and the qualities of his reserved character, had managed to place himself in the most advantageous position in the service. He was an adjutant to a highly important personage, had been sent on a highly important mission to Prussia, and had just returned from there as a courier. He had fully assimilated that unwritten subordination which had so pleased him in Olmutz, according to which an ensign could stand incomparably higher than a general, and according to which, for success in the service, what was needed was not effort, not toil, not bravery, not constancy, but only the ability to handle those who reward service — and he himself was often surprised at his rapid success and at how others could fail to understand this. Following this discovery of his, his whole way of life, all his relations with old acquaintances, all his plans for the future — completely changed. He was not rich, but he spent his last money on dressing better than others; he would sooner have deprived himself of many pleasures than allow himself to ride in a bad carriage or appear in an old uniform on the streets of Petersburg. He cultivated and sought acquaintance only with people who were higher than him, and who could therefore be useful to him. He loved Petersburg and despised Moscow. The memory of the Rostov household and of his childish love for Natasha was unpleasant to him, and he had not been to the Rostovs' once since his departure for the army. In Anna Pavlovna's drawing room, presence in which he considered a major promotion in the service, he now immediately understood his role and let Anna Pavlovna make use of the interest he presented, carefully observing every face and appraising the benefits and possibilities of becoming close to each of them. He sat down in the seat indicated to him beside the beautiful Helene, and listened to the general conversation.

"Vienne trouve les bases du traité proposé tellement hors d'atteinte, qu'on ne saurait y parvenir même par une continuité de succès les plus brillants, et elle mêt en doute les moyens qui pourraient nous les procurer. That is the authentic phrase of the Vienna cabinet," said the Danish chargé d'affaires. ["Vienna finds the bases of the proposed treaty so far out of reach that they could not be attained even by a continuity of the most brilliant successes, and she doubts the means that could procure them for us."]

"C'est le doute qui est flatteur!" ["It is the doubt that is flattering!"] said the man with the profound mind, with a subtle smile.

"Il faut distinguer entre le cabinet de Vienne et l'Empereur d'Autriche," said Mortemart. "L'Empereur d'Autriche n'a jamais pu penser à une chose pareille, ce n'est que le cabinet qui le dit." ["We must distinguish between the Vienna cabinet and the Emperor of Austria. The Emperor of Austria could never have thought such a thing, it is only the cabinet that says it."]

"Eh, mon cher vicomte," Anna Pavlovna intervened, "l'Urope (for some reason she pronounced it l'Urope, as a special refinement of the French language which she could allow herself when speaking with a Frenchman) l'Urope ne sera jamais notre alliée sincère." ["Ah, my dear viscount, Europe will never be our sincere ally."]

After that Anna Pavlovna turned the conversation to the courage and firmness of the Prussian king, in order to draw Boris in.

Boris listened attentively to the person speaking, waiting his turn, but at the same time he managed to look around several times at his neighbor, the beautiful Helene, who with a smile met the eyes of the handsome young adjutant several times.

Very naturally, while speaking of the situation in Prussia, Anna Pavlovna asked Boris to recount his journey to Glogau and the condition in which he found the Prussian army. Boris, without hurrying, in pure and correct French, recounted very many interesting details about the troops, about the court, while carefully avoiding expressing his own opinion about the facts he reported throughout his account. For some time Boris held the general attention, and Anna Pavlovna felt that her treat of a novelty had been received with pleasure by all the guests. Helene showed the most attention of all to Boris's story. She asked him several times about certain details of his journey and seemed very interested in the situation of the Prussian army. As soon as he had finished, she turned to him with her usual smile:

"Il faut absolument que vous veniez me voir," ["You must absolutely come and see me."] she told him in such a tone as if, for certain considerations he could not know, this was absolutely necessary. "Mardi entre les 8 et 9 heures. Vous me ferez grand plaisir." ["Tuesday between 8 and 9 o'clock. You will give me great pleasure."]

Boris promised to fulfill her wish and was about to enter into conversation with her when Anna Pavlovna called him away on the pretext of the aunt, who wished to hear him.

"You know her husband, don't you?" said Anna Pavlovna, closing her eyes and indicating Helene with a sad gesture. "Ah, she is such an unfortunate and charming woman! Do not speak of him in her presence, please do not. It is too painful for her!"