Spacious, lofty reception rooms in the old style, a convenient and dignified study, rooms for his wife and daughter, a study for his son -- it might have been specially built for them.Ivan Ilych himself superintended the arrangements, chose the wallpapers, supplemented the furniture (preferably with antiques which he considered particularly *comme il faut*), and supervised the upholstering.Everything progressed and progressed and approached the ideal he had set himself: even when things were only half completed they exceeded his expectations.He saw what a refined and elegant character, free from vulgarity, it would all have when it was ready.On falling asleep he pictured to himself how the reception room would look.Looking at the yet unfinished drawing room he could see the fireplace, the screen, the what-not, the little chairs dotted here and there, the dishes and plates on the walls, and the bronzes, as they would be when everything was in place.He was pleased by the thought of how his wife and daughter, who shared his taste n this matter, would be impressed by it.They were certainly not expecting as much.He had been particularly successful in finding, and buying cheaply, antiques which gave a particularly aristocratic character to the whole place.But in his letters he intentionally understated everything in order to be able to surprise them.All this so absorbed him that his new duties --though he liked his official work -- interested him less than he had expected.Sometimes he even had moments of absent-mindedness during the court sessions and would consider whether he should have straight or curved cornices for his curtains.He was so interested in it all that he often did things himself, rearranging the furniture, or rehanging the curtains.Once when mounting a step-ladder to show the upholsterer, who did not understand, how he wanted the hangings draped, he mad a false step and slipped, but being a strong and agile man he clung on and only knocked his side against the knob of the window frame.The bruised place was painful but the pain soon passed, and he felt particularly bright and well just then.He wrote: "I feel fifteen years younger."He thought he would have everything ready by September, but it dragged on till mid-October.But the result was charming not only in his eyes but to everyone who saw it.
In reality it was just what is usually seen in the houses of people of moderate means who want to appear rich, and therefore succeed only in resembling others like themselves: there are damasks, dark wood, plants, rugs, and dull and polished bronzes --all the things people of a certain class have in order to resemble other people of that class.His house was so like the others that it would never have been noticed, but to him it all seemed to be quite exceptional.He was very happy when he met his family at the station and brought them to the newly furnished house all lit up, where a footman in a white tie opened the door into the hall decorated with plants, and when they went on into the drawing-room and the study uttering exclamations of delight.He conducted them everywhere, drank in their praises eagerly, and beamed with pleasure.At tea that evening, when Praskovya Fedorovna among others things asked him about his fall, he laughed, and showed them how he had gone flying and had frightened the upholsterer.
"It's a good thing I'm a bit of an athlete.Another man might have been killed, but I merely knocked myself, just here; it hurts when it's touched, but it's passing off already -- it's only a bruise."So they began living in their new home -- in which, as always happens, when they got thoroughly settled in they found they were just one room short -- and with the increased income, which as always was just a little (some five hundred rubles) too little, but it was all very nice.
Things went particularly well at first, before everything was finally arranged and while something had still to be done: this thing bought, that thing ordered, another thing moved, and something else adjusted.Though there were some disputes between husband and wife, they were both so well satisfied and had so much to do that it all passed off without any serious quarrels.When nothing was left to arrange it became rather dull and something seemed to be lacking, but they were then making acquaintances, forming habits, and life was growing fuller.
Ivan Ilych spent his mornings at the law court and came home to diner, and at first he was generally in a good humour, though he occasionally became irritable just on account of his house.(Every spot on the tablecloth or the upholstery, and every broken window-blind string, irritated him.He had devoted so much trouble to arranging it all that every disturbance of it distressed him.) But on the whole his life ran its course as he believed life should do:
easily, pleasantly, and decorously.
