'There is a tide in the affairs of an hôtel:' I am in a mood for
quoting from my favourite authors; and whereas we had at one time sat
down nearly twenty to table, we suddenly found ourselves to be only
three--M. Jerome, the princess, and myself. A kind of intimacy was the
natural result. We made ourselves mutually agreeable; and I was not at
all surprised, when one evening Madame de Mourairef invited us two
gentlemen to take tea with her in her little sitting-room. Both
accepted joyfully; and though I am persuaded that M. Jerome would have
preferred a tête-à-tête, he accepted my companionship with tolerable
grace. We strolled together, indeed, on the quay for half an hour. It
was raining slightly, and I had a cough; but I have too good an
opinion of human nature to imagine that my new acquaintance kept me
out by his fascinating conversation, in order to make me catch a
desperate cold, that would send me wheezing to bed.

The tea was served, as I suppose it is served in Russia, very weak,
with a plentiful admixture of milk and accompaniment of _biscuits
glacés_. Madame de Mourairef did the honours in an inexpressibly
graceful manner; and I observed that there was a delightful intimacy
between her and her maid Penelope, that quite upset my ideas of
northern serfdom. I think they even once exchanged a wink, but of this
I am not sure. There is nothing like experience to expand one's ideas,
and I made up my mind to re-examine the whole of my notions of
Muscovite vassalage. M. Jerome seemed less struck by these
circumstances than myself--being probably too much absorbed in
contemplation of our hostess--but even he could not avoid exclaiming,
'that if that were the way in which serfs were treated, he should like
to be a serf--of such a mistress!'