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Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the

house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into

the room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and

laughing at the same time.

Anna Mikhaylovna, though her circumstances had improved, was

still living with the Rostovs.

"My dear friend?" said she, in a tone of pathetic inquiry,

prepared to sympathize in any way.

The count sobbed yet more.

"Nikolenka... a letter... wa... a... s... wounded... my darling

boy... the countess... promoted to be an officer... thank God...

How tell the little countess!"

Anna Mikhaylovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief

wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter, then having

dried her own eyes she comforted the count, and decided that at

dinner and till teatime she would prepare the countess, and after

tea, with God's help, would inform her.