The Princess Ardácheff's frank face was illuminated with a smile.
"She is extremely young," she thought, "in spite of her widowhood, but
I like her, and I know we shall be friends."
Just then they arrived at her house in the Serguiefskaia. It had not
appeared to Tamara that they were approaching any particularly
fashionable quarter. A fine habitation seemed the neighbor of quite a
humble one, and here there was even a shop a few doors down, and except
for the very tall windows there was nothing exceptionally imposing on
the outside. But when they entered the first hall and the gaily-
liveried suisse and two footmen had removed their furs, and the
Princess' snow boots, then Tamara perceived she was indeed in a
glorious home.
Princess Ardácheff's house was, and is, perhaps the most stately in all
Petersburg.
As they ascended the enormous staircase dividing on the first landing,
and reaching the surrounding galleries above in two sweeps, a grave
major-domo and more footmen met them, and opened wide the doors of a
lofty room. It was full of fine pictures and objets d'art, and though
the furniture dated from the time of Alexander II., and even a little
earlier--when a flood of frightful taste pervaded all Europe--still the
stuffs and the colors were beautiful and rich, and time had softened
their crudity into a harmonious whole.
Be the decorations of a house what they will, it is the mistress of it
who gives the rooms their soul. If hers is vulgar, so will the rooms
be, even though Monsieur Nelson himself has but just designed them in
purest Louis XVI. But the worst of all are those which look as though
their owner constantly attended bazaars, and brought the superfluous
horrors she secured there back with her. Then there are vapid rooms,
and anaemic rooms, and fiddly, and messy rooms, and there are monuments
of wealth with no individuality at all.
Tamara felt all these nuances directly, and she knew that here dwelt
a woman of natural refinement and a broad outlook.
She sank into an old-fashioned sofa, covered with silk a quarter of an
inch thick, and the atmosphere seemed to breathe life and completeness.
Tea and quantities of different little bonnes bouches awaited them.
But if there was a samovar she did not recognize it as such; in fact,
she had seen nothing which many writers describe as "Russian."
The Princess talked on in a fashion of perfect simplicity and
directness. She told her that her friends would all welcome her and be
glad that an Englishwoman should really see their country, and find it
was not at all the grotesque place which fancy painted it.