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On his return to Moscow from the army, Nicholas Rostov was

welcomed by his home circle as the best of sons, a hero, and

their darling Nikolenka; by his relations as a charming,

attractive, and polite young man; by his acquaintances as a

handsome lieutenant of hussars, a good dancer, and one of the

best matches in the city.

The Rostovs knew everybody in Moscow. The old count had money

enough that year, as all his estates had been remortgaged, and so

Nicholas, acquiring a trotter of his own, very stylish riding

breeches of the latest cut, such as no one else yet had in

Moscow, and boots of the latest fashion, with extremely pointed

toes and small silver spurs, passed his time very gaily. After a

short period of adapting himself to the old conditions of life,

Nicholas found it very pleasant to be at home again. He felt that

he had grown up and matured very much. His despair at failing in

a Scripture examination, his borrowing money from Gavril to pay a

sleigh driver, his kissing Sonya on the sly-he now recalled all

this as childishness he had left immeasurably behind. Now he was

a lieutenant of hussars, in a jacket laced with silver, and

wearing the Cross of St.