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The old countess, not letting go of his hand and kissing it every

moment, sat beside him: the rest, crowding round him, watched

every movement, word, or look of his, never taking their

blissfully adoring eyes off him. His brother and sisters

struggled for the places nearest to him and disputed with one

another who should bring him his tea, handkerchief, and pipe.

Rostov was very happy in the love they showed him; but the first

moment of meeting had been so beatific that his present joy

seemed insufficient, and he kept expecting something more, more

and yet more.

Next morning, after the fatigues of their journey, the travelers

slept till ten o'clock.