She stood still a moment, her hand on the latch of the nearest door, and he had only just time to follow her before she vanished. Dark, smoke-stained reception rooms adjoined the hall. In one were two ghostly figures of shrouded statues and shrouded candelabra; by the walls were ranged dark stained oak pieces of furniture with brass decorations and inlaid work; there were huge Chinese vases, a clock representing Bacchus with a barrel, and great oval mirrors in elaborate gilded frames. In the bedroom stood an enormous bed, like a magnificent bier, with a brocade cover. Boris could not imagine how any human being could sleep in such a catafalque. Under the baldachin hovered a gilded Cupid, spotted and faded, with his arrow aimed at the bed. In the corners stood carved cupboards, damascened with ebony and mother-of-pearl. Veroshka opened a press and put her little face inside, and a musty, dusty smell came from the shelves, laden with old-fashioned caftans and embroidered uniforms with big buttons. Raisky shivered. “Granny was right!” he laughed. “It is uncanny here.” “But everything here is so beautiful!” cried Vera, “the great pictures and the books!” “Pictures? Books? Where? I don’t remember. Bravo, little Veroshka.” He kissed her. She wiped her lips, and ran on in front to show him the books. He found some two thousand volumes, and was soon absorbed in reading the titles; many of the books were still uncut. From this time he was not often to be seen in the wooden house. He did not even go down to the Volga, but devoured one volume after another. Then he wrote verses, read them aloud, and intoxicated himself with the sound of them; then gave all his time to drawing. He expected something, he knew not what, from the future. He was filled with passion, with the foretaste of pleasure; there rose before him a world of wonderful music, marvellous pictures, and the murmur of enchanting life. “I have been wanting to ask you,” said Tatiana Markovna, “why you have entered yourself for school again.” “Not the school, the University!” “It’s the same thing. You studied at your guardian’s, and at the High School, you can draw, play the piano. What more do you want to learn? The students will only teach you to smoke a pipe, and in the end--which God forbid--to drink wine. You should go into the Guards.” “Uncle says my means are not sufficient....” “Not sufficient! What next?” She pointed to the fields and the village. She counted out his resources in hundreds and thousands of roubles. She had had no experience of army circles, had never lived in the capital, and did not know how much money was needed. “Your means insufficient! Why, I can send provision alone for a whole regiment. No means! What does your Uncle do with the revenues?” “I intend to be an artist, Granny.” “What! An artist!” “When I leave the University, I intend to enter the Academy.”