a penny-a-liner hack, had no power to employ anybody on
such a task. Still, Lola always stuck to it. Still, it is just
possible that she may have gone to Russia at this period, for Nicholas
was interested in the art of the ballet, and welcomed foreign
exponents of Terpsichore from wherever they came. He was a familiar
figure in the green-rooms of his capital. He patronised Taglioni and
Elssler, and was always ready to make up any deficit in the box-office
receipts. It only meant grinding more out of his army of serfs.

If she did go from Paris to Russia, Lola did not waste her time there,
for, she says, she "nearly married Prince Schulkoski," whom she had
already met in Berlin. This, she adds, was "one of the romances of her
life." But something went wrong with it, for the princely wooer,
"while furiously telegraphing kisses three times a day," was
discovered to be enjoying the companionship of another charmer. Lola
could put up with a great deal. There were, however, limits to her
toleration, and this was one of them. First, Tom James; then, George
Lennox; and now Prince Schulkoski. Masculine promises were no more
substantial than pie-crust. Poor Lola was having a sad awakening. It
is not remarkable that she formed the conclusion that men were
"deceivers ever." After such an experience, nothing else was possible.

Among other items in her repertoire of alleged happenings in Russia at
this period was one that certainly takes a good deal of swallowing.
This was that, while having a "private audience" with the Czar himself
and Count Benkendorf (the Chief of the Secret Police), an important
visitor was announced. Thereupon, and to avoid her presence being
known to the newcomer, she was locked up in a cupboard and left there
for several hours. When the Czar came back, he was "full of apologies
and insisted that she should accept from him a gift of a thousand
roubles."

Other details follow:

"A great magnate conquers her at St. Petersburg; Grand Dukes
perform their tricks; and Circassian Princes die for her.
But soon she has enough of caviare and vodka. What, she
wonders, is the good of becoming fuddled with drunkards and
wasting valuable time on half-civilized Asiatics?"

No good at all, was Lola's decision. Accordingly, she bade farewell to
Russian hospitality, and, relinquishing all prospects of wearing the
Muscovite diadem, returned to Paris and Dujarier. Her lover's
influence secured her