It is impossible to say to what extent the expressions of mutual esteem and admiration would have been carried between the two friends, if the entrance of a servant had not interrupted them, who came to announce that dinner was ready.
"Allow me to invite you to our table," said Maniloff, respectfully.
"You will excuse us, if we cannot ask you to a dinner like those you have been accustomed to partake of in the metropolis: with us all is simplicity—a modest; meal à la Russe, but offered with a candid heart," added Madame Maniloff.
Hereupon the two men had again a slight and polite difference as to who should enter before the other, but at last Tchichikoff entered the dining-room backwards.
[CHAPTER XI.]
On their entrance in the dining-hall, they found Madame Maniloff waiting with her two little sons. These children were of that tender age when parents are induced to seat them already among adults, though they still are accommodated with high stools. Near them stood their teacher who bowed courteously and with a smile.
The lady of the house took her seat before the soup-tureen; her guest was placed between herself and husband; the servant tied a napkin under the chin of the little boys, and the dinner ceremonial commenced.
"What pretty little boys!" said Tchichikoff, after a while, and looking intently at them. "What is their age?"
"The elder is in his eighth year, and the younger celebrated his sixth birth-day yesterday," answered Madame Maniloff, smiling.