"Shall we go to see the home of the first Romanoff, or not?"
"Let us go, by all means," I responded.
The others agreeing, we left the palace, and drove to a humble little house in another part of the town.
"This," said Alice, as we entered the low room, "is where the first Tsar of Russia was born; and although I have been four times in Moscow, I never came here before."
"After all," remarked George, who had been talking incessantly on the way from the palace, "the Romanoffs were not thought so highly of in those days. The Dolgoroukys were great boyars before the Romanoffs were ever heard of."
"The greatness of the Romanoffs," said Tom, in an important manner, "dates from that time. I suppose a republican form of government would not have worked well among you turbulent Russians; else it is a pity that, instead of electing a Tsar, they did not make him president for life."
"I am not interested in your political discussions," said Grace; "but I should like to know if this is a stove."
It was a delicate bit of furniture, composed of painted porcelain tiles.
"That is a stove," responded George, "and there is a story painted on it, and illustrated by these pictures."
On the first floor of the house were only four small, low rooms. The wife's apartments were above, reached by a flight of steep, narrow stairs. The furniture would
