and displayed her dazzlingly white teeth, she was irresistibly
charming. When, in a serious mood, she raised her large dark eyes,
full of nobleness and spirit, then might people fall at her feet with
adoration. Countess Lapuschkin had often been compared and equalled
to the Princess Elizabeth, and yet nothing could be more dissimilar or
incomparable than these two beauties. Elizabeth's was wholly earthly,
voluptuous, glowing with youth and love, but Eleonore's was chaste
and sublime, pure and maidenly. Elizabeth allured to love, Eleonore to
adoration.

The princess had long hated the young Countess Eleonore Lapuschkin,
and considered her as a rival; but that this rival should now gain an
interest in the heart of her favorite, that filled Elizabeth's soul
with anger and agitation, that caused her eyes to flash and her blood to
boil.

Staringly as Alexis Razumovsky's eyes were fixed upon the countess, she,
unconscious of this double observation, stood cheerful and unembarrassed
in the circle of her admiring friends and adorers.

Anna Leopoldowna followed the glance of the princess, and, observing
the beautiful Lapuschkin, said, without thinking of Elizabeth's very
susceptible vanity:

"Leonore Lapuschkin is an admirably beautiful woman, is she not? I
never saw a handsomer one. To look at her is like a morning dream;
her appearance diffuses light and splendor. Do you not find it so,
Elizabeth?"

"Oh, yes, I find it so," said Elizabeth, with a constrained smile. "She
is the handsomest woman in your realm."

"Yourself excepted, Elizabeth," kindly subjoined the regent.

"Oh, no, she is handsomer than I!" murmured Elizabeth.

Poor Leonore! In this moment hath the princess pronounced your sentence
of condemnation, and in her heart subscribed the stern order for your
execution.

A longer view of this triumph of the countess became insufferable;
alleging a sudden attack of illness, she immediately took leave of the
regent, and ordered her carriage.

Tears of anger and love stood in her eyes as Razumovsky approached to
aid her in entering it. Hurling away his hand, she entered the carriage
without assistance.

"And may I not accompany you in the carriage as usual?" asked Alexis,
with tenderness in his tone.

"No," she curtly said, "go back into the hall, and again admire the
handsomest woman in the empire!"

Then, jealousy getting the better of anger, she beckoned to Alexis, who
was about departing in sadness, a