hese painful impressions."

The dinner at the Korchagin's came to his mind, and he looked at his
watch. It was not too late to reach there for dinner. A tram-car
passed by. He ran after it, and boarded it at a bound. On the square
he jumped off, took one of the best cabs, and ten minutes later he
alighted in front of Korchagin's large dwelling.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"Walk in, Your Excellency, you are expected," said the fat porter,
pushing open the swinging, oaken door of the entrance. "They are
dining, but I was told to admit you."

The porter walked to the stairway and rang the bell.

"Are there any guests?" Nekhludoff asked, while taking off his coat.

"Mr. Kolosoff, also Michael Sergeievich, besides the family," answered
the porter.

A fine-looking lackey in dress coat and white gloves looked down from
the top of the stairs.

"Please to walk in, Your Excellency," he said.

Nekhludoff mounted the stairs, and through the spacious and
magnificent parlor he entered the dining-room. Around the table were
seated the entire family, except Princess Sophia Vasilievna, who never
left her own apartments. At the head of the table sat old Korchagin,
on his left the physician; on his right, a visitor, Ivan Ivanovich
Kolosoff, an ex-district commander, and now a bank manager, who was a
friend of the family, and of liberal tendencies; further to the left
was Miss Rader, governess to Missy's four-year-old sister, with the
little girl herself; then to the right, Missy's only brother, Peter, a
high-school pupil, on account of whose forthcoming examinations the
entire family remained in the city, and his tutor, also a student;
then again to the left, Katherine Alexeievna, a forty-year-old girl
Slavophile; opposite to her was Michael Sergeievich, or Misha Telegin,
Missy's cousin, and at the foot of the table, Missy herself, and
beside her, on the table, lay an extra cover.

"Ah, very glad you came! Take a seat! We are still at the fish,"
chewing carefully with his false teeth old Korchagin said, lifting his
bloodshot eyes on Nekhludoff. "Stepan!" he turned with a full mouth to
the fat, majestic servant, pointing with his eyes to Nekhludoff's
plate. Although Nekhludoff had often dined with and knew Korchagin
well, this evening his old face, his sensual, smacking lips, the
napkin stuck under his vest, the fat neck, and especially the
well-fed, military figure made an unpleasant impression on him.

"It is all ready, Your Ex