possess some of the qualities with which you are endowed!'
'On the contrary, I for my part should esteem it the greatest …'
There is no saying what pitch the mutual outpouring of sentiment between these two friends might have reached, had not a servant entered to announce a meal.
'Pray come to dinner,' said Manilov. 'You must excuse it if we have not a dinner such as you get in parqueted halls and great cities; we have simply cabbage soup in Russian style, but we offer it from our hearts. Pray go in.'
At this point they spent some time in disputing which should pass in first, and finally Tchitchikov walked sideways into the dining-room.
In the dining-room there were already two boys, Manilov's sons, children of an age to sit at the dinner table but still on high chairs. With them was their tutor, who bowed politely with a smile. The lady of the house sat behind the soup tureen; the visitor was placed between his host and hostess. A servant tied dinner napkins round the children's necks.
'What charming children!' said Tchitchikov, looking at them. 'How old are they?'
'The elder is eight and the younger was six yesterday,' said Madame Manilov.
'Themistoclus,' said Manilov, addressing the elder boy who was trying to free his chin which had been tied up in the dinner napkin by the footman. Tchitchikov raised his eyebrows a little
