ing-woman; she will tell you that
the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the great Czar Peter, has not
one single robe splendid enough to render her presentable, without
mortification, at a court-ball of the regent."

"Whatever robe you may wear," passionately interposed Alexis, "you will
still be resplendent, for your beauty will impart a divine halo to any
dress!"

That was precisely the kind of flattery pleasing to Elizabeth.

"Think you so, flatterer?" asked Elizabeth. "Well, for once I will
believe your words, and assume that the Princess Elizabeth may be
fair without the aid of splendor in dress. We therefore accept the
invitation, Woronzow. Announce that to the regent's messenger. But still
it is sad and humiliating," continued Elizabeth after a pause, a cloud
passing over her usually so cheerful countenance, "yes it is still a
melancholy circumstance for the daughter of the great Peter to be so
poor that she is not able to dress herself suitably to her rank. Ah,
how humiliating is the elevation of my high position, when I cannot even
properly reward you, my friends, for your fidelity and attachment!"

"You will one day be able to reward us," significantly remarked
Grunstein. "One day, when an imperial crown surmounts your fair brows,
then will your generous heart be able to act according to its noble
instincts."

"Still the same old dreams!" said Elizabeth, shaking her head and
letting Razumovsky's long locks glide through her fingers. "Pay no
attention to him, Alexis, he is an enthusiast who dreams of imperial
crowns, while I desire nothing but a ball-dress, that in it I may please
you, my friend!"

"Oh, you always please me," whispered Alexis, "and most pleasing are you
when--"

The conclusion of his flattering speech he whispered so low that it was
heard by no one but the princess.

Patting his cheek with her little round hand, she blushed, but not for
shame, as she did not cast down her eyes, but answered with a glowing
glance the tender looks of her lover. She blushed only from an internal
passionate excitement, while her bosom stormily rose and fell.

"You are very saucy, Alexis," said she, but at the same time lightly
kissing him upon the forehead, and smiling; but then her brow was
suddenly clouded, for the door was again opened and once more the lackey
appeared upon the threshold.

"The French ambassador," said he, "the Marquis de la Chetardie, begs the
favor of an audience."

"Ah, the good