"Late! It`s nearly ten o`clock," answered Natasha`s voice. A rustle of starched petticoats and the whispering and laughter of girls` voices came from the adjoining room. The door was opened a crack and there was a glimpse of something blue, of ribbons, black hair, and merry faces. It was Natasha, Sonya, and Petya, who had come to see whether they were getting up.

Kutuzov accompanied by his adjutants rode at a walking pace behind the carabineers.