off Palace, was a
little overwhelmed by the stately magnificence of the great financier.
Corsini, of humble extraction, was fairly dazzled by it.

"We seem to walk on velvet, darling, don't we?" he whispered to his
wife as they went down the great staircase. "If we could only have a
little music, we might think we were in Paradise."

But the Baron had provided for that. There were no other guests during
the week-end. With the whim of an old man he had wanted to have them
to himself.

During the perfect dinner, prepared by a _chef_ to whom he paid an
enormous salary, a small orchestra played some exquisite music, so
softly rendered that it did not interfere with conversation. Salmoros
thought out all these things with the true spirit of the artist--the
artist with perhaps, in his complex spirit, a little of the Oriental.

Nada was enchanted. What seemed barbarous in Russia was here touched
with refinement, a different thing altogether. What a wonderful old
man he was!

And Corsini was equally delighted, with his artistic appreciation of
all that was beautiful and refined. The gaudy splendours of the Winter
Palace were vulgar compared to this perfect setting--and only for a
party of three--the exquisite glass and silver, the snowy napery, the
well-trained service, the full but subdued light, and that orchestra
in the gallery of the vast dining-room rendering that beautiful, but
not obtrusive, music, every member of the small band an artist.

The long meal was ended. Salmoros rose.

"Come into my favourite sitting-room," he said. "We can smoke there in
comfort, and Madame can have a cigarette."

He led the way into a cosy chamber, furnished in the most exquisite
taste. Easy, comfortable chairs abounded. Salmoros presented a
cigarette to the Princess and offered Corsini one of his choicest
cigars. There was a little period of silence, and then the Baron
turned to Corsini.

"Have you brought your violin with you, Nello?"

"I never travel without it, sir," replied the young man.

"Ah, then, when we have had our smoke, perhaps you will humour an old
man's whim. Will you play for me that lovely little romance which was
always your encore? There is a piano in yonder corner. Perhaps your
wife, who is a musician, will accompany you. If not, I will do my
best."

Later on Nello played, his charming wife accompanying him. The Baron
listened, enraptured.

"Ah, my dear Nello, that is exquisite music, exquisitely render