hat many men enjoy the ballet scene in opera, while they would not
permit their wives and daughters to take part in it."

"America is the protector of the family," said Jimmie, regarding me
with a hostile eye.

Tolstoy tactfully changed the subject out of deference to Jimmie's
displeasure.

"Do many Russians visit America?" asked Tolstoy.

"Oh, yes, quite a number, and they are among our most agreeable
visitors. Prince Serge Wolkonsky travelled so much and made so many
addresses that he made Russia more popular than ever."

"Do you know how popular you are in America?" said Jimmie, blushing at
his own temerity.

"I know how many of my books are sold there, and I get many kind letters
from Americans."

"Isn't he considered the greatest living man of letters in America?"
said Jimmie, appealingly to me boyishly.

"Undoubtedly," I replied, smiling, because Tolstoy smiled.

"Whom do you consider the greatest living author?" asked Jimmie.

"Mrs. Humphrey Ward," said Tolstoy, decisively.

This was a thunderbolt which stopped the conversation of the other
members of the party.

"And one of your greatest Americans," went on Tolstoy, "was Henry
George."

"From a literary point of view, or--"

"From the point of view of humanity and of the Christian."

Jimmie and I leaned back involuntarily. Judged by these standards, we
were none of us either Christians or human, in our party at least.

The Countess Tolstoy, who seemed to be in not the slightest awe of her
illustrious husband, having become somewhat impatient during this
conversation, now turned to me and said:

"It has been so interesting to talk with your sister and Mrs. Jimmie
about Paris fashions. We see so little here that is not second hand, and
your journey is so fascinating. It seems incredible that you can be
travelling simply for pleasure and over such a number of countries!
Where do you go next?"

"We have come from everywhere," I said, laughing, "and we are going
anywhere."

The countess clasped her hands and said:

"How I envy you, but doesn't it cost you a great deal of money?"

"I suppose it does," I said, regretfully. "I am going to travel as long
as my money holds out, but the rest are not so hampered."

"Alas, if I could only go with you," said the countess, "but we are
under such heavy expense now. It used to be easier when we had three or
four children nearer of an age who could be educated together. Then it
cost less. But now this