It was nearly forty miles from Levin's Pokrovskoe.
The big, old house at Ergushovo had been pulled down long ago, and the old prince had had the lodge done up and built on to.
Twenty years before, when Dolly was a child, the lodge had been roomy and comfortable, though, like all lodges, it stood sideways to the entrance avenue, and faced the south.
But by now this lodge was old and dilapidated.
When Stepan Arkadyevitch had gone down in the spring to sell the forest, Dolly had begged him to look over the house and order what repairs might be needed.