den or Berlin,
in case I should be obliged to leave St. Petersburg. It was not long,
in fact, before my ailments became unbearable; the doctor I consulted
ordered me to take the waters at Carlsbad.

I cannot describe the regrets I experienced at leaving St. Petersburg,
where I had spent such happy years. It was not without an aching heart
that I bade my daughter good-by, bitter though it was to see her
estranged from me, to see her completely under the thumb of a clique
headed by the vile governess whom I would accuse of everything evil. A
few days prior to my departure my son-in-law remarked that he did not
conceive how I could quit St. Petersburg at the moment most favourable
to my fortune. "You will admit," I answered, "that my heart must be
very sick. The reason you can easily guess."

Other separations I likewise found most painful. The Princesses
Kurakin and Dolgoruki, that excellent Count Strogonoff, who had given
me so many proofs of friendship--that was what I regretted far more
than the fortune I was renouncing. I remember how the dear Count came
to see me as soon as he heard I was going. He was so perturbed that he
walked up and down the studio where I was painting, muttering to
himself, "No, no; she won't go away; it is impossible!" My daughter,
who was present, thought he was turning mad. To all the kindly
proffered demonstrations of attachment I could not answer except by a
promise to return to St. Petersburg. And such was then my firm
intention.

When I had quite decided to depart I asked for an audience with the
Empress, which was immediately granted, and on presenting myself I
found the Emperor there, too. I testified my liveliest and sincerest
regrets to Their Majesties, telling them my health compelled me to
take the waters at Carlsbad, recommended to me for stoppages. To this
the Emperor affably replied: "Do not go so far in search of a remedy.
I will give you the Empress's horse, and after riding it for some time
you will be cured." I thanked the Emperor a hundred times for the
offer, but confessed that I did not know how to ride. "Well," he
resumed, "I will give you a riding-master to take you out." I cannot
say how touched I was by such kindness, and on taking leave of Their
Majesties I sought in vain for terms strong enough to express my
gratitude.

A few days after this interview I met the Empress walking in the
Summer Garden. I was with my daughter and M. de Riviere. Her Majesty
stepped u