minutes later all the young people of the house rejoined the company,
equally unrecognizable. Pélaguéïa Danilovna, going and coming among them
all, with her spectacles on her nose and a quiet smile, had seats
arranged and a supper laid out for the visitors, masters and servants
alike. She looked straight in the face of each in turn, recognizing no
one of the motley crew--neither the Rostows, nor Dimmler, nor even her
own children, nor any of the clothes they figured in.

"That one, who is she?" she asked the governess, stopping a Kazan
Tartar, who was, in fact, her own daughter. "One of the Rostows, is it
not? And you, gallant hussar, what regiment do you belong to?" she went
on, addressing Natacha. "Give some _pastila_ to this Turkish lady," she
cried to the butler; "it is not forbidden by her religion, I believe."

At the sight of some of the reckless dancing which the mummers performed
under the shelter of their disguise, Pélaguéïa Danilovna could not help
hiding her face in her handkerchief, while her huge person shook with
uncontrollable laughter--the laugh of a kindly matron, frankly jovial
and gay.

When they had danced all the national dances, ending with the
_Horovody_, she placed every one, both masters and servants, in a large
circle, holding a cord with a ring and a rouble, and for a while they
played games. An hour after, when the finery was the worse for wear and
heat and laughter had removed much of the charcoal, Pélaguéïa Danilovna
could recognize them, compliment the girls on the success of their
disguise, and thank the whole party for the amusement they had given
her. Supper was served for the company in the drawing-room, and for the
servants in the large dining-room.