Book 1 Chapter 3 Nekhludoff

Nekhludoff dressed leisurely, and went into the dining-room. A
table, which looked very imposing with its four legs carved in
the shape of lions' paws, and a huge side-board to match, stood
in the oblong room, the floor of which had been polished by three
men the day before. On the table, which was covered with a fine,
starched cloth, stood a silver coffeepot full of aromatic coffee,
a sugar basin, a jug of fresh cream, and a bread basket filled
with fresh rolls, rusks, and biscuits; and beside the plate lay
the last number of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, a newspaper, and
several letters.

Nekhludoff was just going to open his letters, when a stout,
middle-aged woman in mourning, a lace cap covering the widening
parting of her hair, glided into the room. This was Agraphena
Petrovna, formerly lady's maid to Nekhludoff's mother. Her
mistress had died quite recently in this very house, and she
remained with the son as his housekeeper. Agraphena Petrovna had
spent nearly ten years, at different times, abroad with
Nekhludoff's mother, and had the appearance and manners of a
lady. She had lived with the Nekhludoffs from the time she was a
child, and had known Dmitri Ivanovitch at the time when he was
still little Mitinka.

"Good-morning, Dmitri Ivanovitch."

"Good-morning, Agraphena Petrovna. What is it you want?"
Nekhludoff asked.

"A letter from the princess; either from the mother or the
daughter. The maid brought it some time ago, and is waiting in my
room," answered Agraphena Petrovna, handing him the letter with a
significant smile.