ool.

The King of Poland's niece, Mme. Menicheck, showed herself obliging to
me on many occasions, and it was a great pleasure to meet her again in
Paris. At St. Petersburg she made me do the likeness of her daughter,
then quite a child, whom I painted playing with her dog, as well as
the portrait of her uncle, the King of Poland, in a Henri IV. costume.
The first portrait I did of that charming prince I kept for myself.

One of the pleasantest reminiscences of my travels is that of my
reception as a member of the Academy of St. Petersburg. Count
Strogonoff, then Director of the Fine Arts, apprised me of the
appointed day for my installation. I ordered a uniform of the Academy,
in the shape of an Amazonian dress: a little violet bodice, a yellow
skirt, and a black hat and feathers. At one o'clock I arrived in a
room leading to a long gallery, at the end of which I perceived Count
Strogonoff at a table. I was requested to go up to him. For this
purpose I was obliged to traverse the long gallery in question, where
tiers of benches had been placed which were full of spectators. But as
I luckily recognised a number of friends and acquaintances in the
crowd, I reached the other end of the gallery without feeling too much
confusion. The Count addressed me in a very flattering little speech,
and then presented me, on behalf of the Emperor, with a diploma
nominating me a member of the Academy. Everybody thereupon burst into
such applause that I was moved to tears, and I shall never forget that
touching moment. That evening I met several persons who had witnessed
the affair. They mentioned my courage in passing through that gallery
so full of people. "You must suppose," I answered, "that I had guessed
from their faces how kindly they were prepared to greet me." Very soon
after I did my own portrait for the Academy of St. Petersburg. I
represented myself painting, palette in hand.

In dwelling on these agreeable memories of my life, I am trying to
postpone the moment when I must speak of the sorrows, the cruel
anxieties which disturbed the peace and happiness I was enjoying at
St. Petersburg. But I must now enter upon the sad particulars.

My daughter had attained the age of seventeen. She was charming in
every respect. Her large blue eyes, sparkling with spirit, her
slightly tip-tilted nose, her pretty mouth, magnificent teeth, a
dazzling fresh complexion--all went to make up one of the sweetest
faces to be seen. Her figure