"Please to walk in, your excellency," said the friendly, fat
doorkeeper of the Korchagins' big house, opening the door, which
moved noiselessly on its patent English hinges; "you are
expected. They are at dinner. My orders were to admit only you."
The doorkeeper went as far as the staircase and rang.
"Are there any strangers?" asked Nekhludoff, taking off his
overcoat.
"Mr. Kolosoff and Michael Sergeivitch only, besides the family."
A very handsome footman with whiskers, in a swallow-tail coat and
white gloves, looked down from the landing.
"Please to walk up, your excellency," he said. "You are expected."
Nekhludoff went up and passed through the splendid large
dancing-room, which he knew so well, into the dining-room. There
the whole Korchagin family--except the mother, Sophia Vasilievna,
who never left her cabinet--were sitting round the table. At the
head of the table sat old Korchagin; on his left the doctor, and
on his right, a visitor, Ivan Ivanovitch Kolosoff, a former
Marechal de Noblesse, now a bank director, Korchagin's friend and
a Liberal. Next on the left side sat Miss Rayner, the governess
of Missy's little sister, and the four-year-old girl herself.
Opposite them, Missy's brother, Petia, the only son of the
Korchagins, a public-school boy of the Sixth Class. It was
because of his examinations that the whole family were still in
town. Next to him sat a University student who was coaching him,
and Missy's cousin, Michael Sergeivitch Telegin, generally called
Misha; opposite him, Katerina Alexeevna, a 40-year-old maiden
lady, a Slavophil; and at the foot of the table sat Missy
herself, with an empty place by her side.
"Ah! that's right! Sit down. We are still at the fish," said old
Korchagin with difficulty, chewing carefully with his false
teeth, and lifting his bloodshot eyes (which had no visible lids
to them) to Nekhludoff.
"Stephen!" he said, with his mouth full, addressing the stout,
dignified butler, and pointing with his eyes to the empty place.
Though Nekhludoff knew Korchagin very well, and had often seen
him at dinner, to-day this red face with the sensual smacking
lips, the fat neck above the napkin stuck into his waistcoat, and
the whole over-fed military figure, struck him very disagreeably.
Then Nekhludoff remembered, without wishing to, what he knew of
the cruelty of this man, who, when in command, used to have men
flogged, and even hanged, without rhyme or reason, simply because
he was rich and had no need to curry favour.
"Immediately, your excellency," said Stephen, getting a large
soup ladle out of the sideboard, which was decorated with a
number of silver vases. He made a sign with his head to the
handsome footman, who began at once to arrange the untouched
knives and forks and the napkin, elaborately folded with the
embroidered family crest uppermost, in front of the empty place
next to Missy. Nekhludoff went round shaking hands with every
one, and all, except old Korchagin and the ladies, rose when he
approached. And this walk round the table, this shaking the hands
of people, with many of whom he never talked, seemed unpleasant
and odd. He excused himself for being late, and was about to sit
down between Missy and Katerina Alexeevna, but old Korchagin
insisted that if he would not take a glass of vodka he should at
least take a bit of something to whet his appetite, at the side
table, on which stood small dishes of lobster, caviare, cheese,
and salt herrings. Nekhludoff did not know how hungry he was
until he began to eat, and then, having taken some bread and
cheese, he went on eating eagerly.