Maroossia complained of a headache, so we left early.  Baroness is in the Hotel d’Europe—­she is so sorry that “her Astoria” became such a hole.  Well—­not only her Astoria.

5.

It certainly would be a wonder to expect anything but confusion from the men who recently became the leaders of 180 millions.  The leaders are sure they can make wonders.

Prince Lvov!  This old squeaking carriage, as Polenov says, is a man from whom I would not expect anything.  It is enough to look at his beard, with remnants of yesterday’s dinner on it, at his small blue foxy eyes always reddish and always dropping tears.  Miliukov!  Minister of Foreign Affairs!  All his experience consists of a continuous chain of political breaks and a series of moderately paid, superficial articles on Balkan questions in a provincial newspaper.  And, Monsieur Kerensky,—­la fine fleur—­the Minister of Justice, a little man with a single kidney and a double ambition.  Insects!

These people would not be able to administer a small country community, and here they are confronted with three immense propositions:  the Great War, the building up of a new state, and the fighting of an organized propaganda directed against the war, and against order.

It was enough for the ladies (and for Maroossia too) to see all of these people in power, in order to find interesting points, not only in their political activities, that would not be so bad—­but in their private lives too.  They all already know who these people are, what they eat, when and where they were born, what their wives and mistresses look like, etc., etc., up to the most intimate deeds and traits of their characters.  The foreign ladies also take a very keen interest in those little tea-chats.  All prefer to listen to them much rather than to the events at the front.

Vadbolsky wrote me a letter sent through the “Help the Soldiers” society.  Of course he could not say much.  They all realize that discipline is going down with tremendous speed, at least at the Northern front.  The soldiers listen more to what the Council of Deputies say than to anything else.  This treble power—­the Council, the Government and the Army Authorities—­must be united, but there is no one to realize it; and if there were, there would be no possibility of co-ordinating the different currents.

6.

Evening with the Ivanitskys.

After dinner we all went into the library and started as usual to speak of our very bad affairs, the high cost of living, even here, in a private home, reserved, not to be accused of reactionary tastes.  The ladies looked at every one who would start to talk, as if he would be the man to solve all of our complicated problems and mishaps.