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"
Oh
dear
,
what
a
young
lady
!
"
said
Fóka
,
pretending
to
frown
at
Natásha
.
No
one
in
the
house
sent
people
about
or
gave
them
as
much
trouble
as
Natásha
did
.
She
could
not
see
people
unconcernedly
,
but
had
to
send
them
on
some
errand
.
She
seemed
to
be
trying
whether
any
of
them
would
get
angry
or
sulky
with
her
;
but
the
serfs
fulfilled
no
one
's
orders
so
readily
as
they
did
hers
.
"
What
can
I
do
,
where
can
I
go
?
"
thought
she
,
as
she
went
slowly
along
the
passage
.
"
Nastásya
Ivánovna
,
what
sort
of
children
shall
I
have
?
"
she
asked
the
buffoon
,
who
was
coming
toward
her
in
a
woman
's
jacket
.
"
Why
,
fleas
,
crickets
,
grasshoppers
,
"
answered
the
buffoon
.
"
O
Lord
,
O
Lord
,
it
's
always
the
same
!
Oh
,
where
am
I
to
go
?
What
am
I
to
do
with
myself
?
"
And
tapping
with
her
heels
,
she
ran
quickly
upstairs
to
see
Vogel
and
his
wife
who
lived
on
the
upper
story
.
Two
governesses
were
sitting
with
the
Vogels
at
a
table
,
on
which
were
plates
of
raisins
,
walnuts
,
and
almonds
.
The
governesses
were
discussing
whether
it
was
cheaper
to
live
in
Moscow
or
Odessa
.
Natásha
sat
down
,
listened
to
their
talk
with
a
serious
and
thoughtful
air
,
and
then
got
up
again
.
"
The
island
of
Madagascar
,
"
she
said
,
"
Ma-da-gas-car
,
"
she
repeated
,
articulating
each
syllable
distinctly
,
and
,
not
replying
to
Madame
Schoss
who
asked
her
what
she
was
saying
,
she
went
out
of
the
room
.
Her
brother
Pétya
was
upstairs
too
;
with
the
man
in
attendance
on
him
he
was
preparing
fireworks
to
let
off
that
night
.
"
Pétya
!
Pétya
!
"
she
called
to
him
.
"
Carry
me
downstairs
.
"
