with me," she
answered, coquettishly. "But, alone!--b-r-r! It is too vast, too
immense! I shall never feel at home in it."

Louise gave her graceful head a mournful shake and looked dismally at
her husband.

Suddenly she cried: "Where is Loris? What have they done with my boy?"

"It is time you inquired," said her husband, reproachfully. "I doubt if
he remembers you."

Louise broke into a merry laugh. "Not know his mamma? Indeed! We shall
see!"

Going to a table, she rang a bell, which was immediately answered by a
liveried servant.

"Bring me my Loris," she cried.

"He has already been put to bed," answered the man.

"Bring him, anyhow. I have not seen him for almost nine days."

The man disappeared, and shortly after a nurse entered, bearing in her
arms a bright little fellow scarcely four years of age. Loris, the
tyrant of the house, who was fast being spoiled by the alternate
indulgence and neglect of his capricious mother, struggled violently
with his nurse, who had just aroused him from his first sleep.

Louise threw herself upon the child in an excess of maternal devotion.
She fairly covered him with kisses.

"How has my Loris been? My poor boy! Will he forgive his mamma for
having deserted him?"

The boy resented this outburst of love by sundry kicks and screams.

"The child is cross and sleepy," said the Count; "let Minka put him to
bed."

"Wait a moment," exclaimed the Countess, in childish glee. "I have
brought him a present. Loris, my pet, how would you like a little boy to
play with? A real live boy?"

Loris ceased his struggles and became interested.

"I want a pony to play with! I don't want a boy," he cried, peevishly.

"What folly have you been guilty of now?" asked Dimitri, with some
misgivings, for he had had frequent proofs of his wife's impulsive
extravagance.

"You shall see, my dear."

Louise rang for Ivan. When he appeared, she asked:

"What have you done with the boy we found?"

"He is in the kitchen and has just eaten his supper," answered the
servant.

"Bring him up at once."

While Ivan went to fetch Jacob, the Countess related, with many
embellishments and exaggerations, and with frequent appeals to her maid
Tekla for corroboration, how she had found the boy on the road, how she
had saved his life, and, finally, how she had decided to bring him home
as a little playmate for her darling Loris. Before she had finished her
story Jacob himself appeared upon the s