e me, the gay, witty, merry Belleville, conversing with such
an aspect of pious gravity with this poor Queen of Prussia, who makes
a face if one alludes to La Pucelle d'Orleans, and wishes to make it
appear that she has not read Crebillon!"

"Tell me, now, Giurgenow, how is it with your court of Petersburg? Is it
formal, as ceremonious as here in Prussia?"

Giurgenow laughed aloud. "Our Empress Elizabeth is an angel of beauty
and goodness--mild and magnanimous to all-sacrificing herself constantly
to the good of others. Last year she gave a ball to her body-guard. She
danced with every one of the soldiers, and sipped from every glass; and
when the soldiers, carried away by her grace and favor, dared to indulge
in somewhat free jests, the good empress laughed merrily, and forgave
them. On that auspicious day she first turned her attention to the happy
Bestuchef. He was then a poor subordinate officer--now he is a prince
and one of the richest men in Russia."

"It appears that your Russia has some resemblance to my beautiful
France," said Belleville, gayly. "But how is it with you, Count Ranuzi?
Is the Austrian court like the court of France, or like this wearisome
Prussia?"

"The Austrian court stands alone--resembles no other," said the Italian,
proudly. "At the Austrian court we have a tribunal of justice to decide
all charges against modesty and virtue The Empress Maria Theresa is its
president."

"Diable!" cried the Frenchman, "what earthly chance would the Russian
empress and my lovely, enchanting marquise have, if summoned before this
tribunal by their most august ally the Empress Maria Theresa? But you
forget, Giurgenow, that you have promised to read us something from the
journal about Prince Henry."

"It is nothing of importance," said the Russian, apathetically; "the
prince has entirely recovered from his wounds, and has been solacing
himself in his winter camp at Dresden with the representations upon the
French stage. He has taken part as actor, and has played the role of
Voltaire's Enfant Prodigue. It is further written, that he has now left
the comic stage and commenced the graver game of arms."

"He might accidentally change these roles," said Belleville, gayly, "and
play the Enfant Prodigue when he should play the hero. In which would he
be the greater, do you know, Ranuzi?"

The Italian shrugged his shoulders. "You must ask his wife."

"Or Baron Kalkreuth, who has lingered here for seven months