I did not care to explain, so I made some laughing reply, and turned my attention to dinner.
We had planned to go to the theatre in the evening. George did not return, so we started without him. It was rather a dismal affair, though we all did our best to be gay.
When we met at breakfast this morning, George looked grave and troubled. He informed us that the friend whom he and Sacha had gone to see was dead, and then he seemed to make an effort to throw off gloomy thoughts, and to help us enjoy ourselves.
We went to the Kremlin again. A fresh, pure coating of snow had fallen during the night, and dazzled us in the sunlight. The domes of the churches within the walls took deeper, purer shades of blue, green, and gold, and the sunshine scintillated on the delicate tracery of the chains and crosses which surmounted them. We got a magnificent view of the city from the walls. We were raised so high above the squalor and the dirt that they did not stare us in the face; the white snow, too, covered a multitude of sins. We looked down upon hundreds of minarets, spires, domes, and crosses, all brightly colored and shining in the sun; countless green roofs added their contribution of color; and far in the distance was the low range of the Sparrow Hills, from which Napoleon got his first view of Moscow.
We all agreed that the scene was utterly different from yesterday, when we had seen it in a smart, pelting snow-storm.
From thence we proceeded to inspect the interior of
16
