Relating to dinners, I may say here that certainly the saddest I ever went to at St. Petersburg was at a sister's of Zuboff, where I had neglected to present a letter of introduction. Six months of my sojourn in Russia had gone by, when I met her one evening coming out of the theatre. She stepped over to me and said most politely that she was still waiting for a letter which had been given to me for her. Scarcely knowing what excuse to make, I replied that I had mislaid the letter, but that I would look for it again and hasten to bring it to her. I accordingly went one morning to visit the Countess D----, and she invited me to dine with her the day after the next. It was then the custom all over St. Petersburg to dine at half-past two, and I therefore went to the Countess's at that hour with my daughter, who was also invited. We were conducted to a very melancholy drawing-room, on the way to which I observed no preparations whatever for dinner. One hour, two hours went by, but there was no more question of sitting down to table than if we had just taken our morning coffee. At last two servants came in and opened several card-tables, and although it seemed rather strange to me that any one should eat in a drawing-room, I flattered myself that dinner was now to be served. But I was wrong. The servants went out, and in a few minutes a number of the guests had settled down to play cards. About six o'clock my poor daughter and I were so starved that, when we looked into a mirror, we were frightened and sorry for ourselves. I felt as if I should die. Not until half-past seven were we informed that the meal was ready; but our poor stomachs had gone through too much agony; we were unable to eat anything at all. I then found out that the Countess D---- dined at the hour usual in London. The Countess ought to have notified me, but perhaps she imagined that the whole universe was aware of her dinner hour. As a rule, nothing was more distasteful to me than to dine in town, but I was sometimes obliged to do it, especially in Russia, where one runs a risk of mortally offending people if one declines their invitations too often. I disliked the dinners the more as there were such a number of them. They were highly luxurious; most of the nobility had very good French cooks, and the fare was incomparable. A quarter of an hour before the guests sat down at table a servant would pass round a tray with all sorts of cordials and small slices of buttered bread. No cordials were taken after dinner, but always superior Malaga wine. It is the custom in Russia for the great ladies, even at their own houses, to go into table before the guests, so that the Princess Dolgoruki and others would take me by the arm, in order that I might go in at the same time as they, for it would be impossible to exceed the Russian ladies in the urbanities of good society. I will even go so far as to say that they are without the haughtiness chargeable to some of our French ladies.