at
least with the packet, which, even to her unworldly eyes, had about it a
suggestion of gold and gems that could not but bring a flutter of
interest to a heart which, long as it had been consecrated to unworldly
things, was still of the eternal feminine. It was not till the good,
stupid soul had resorted to earnest prayer, that she hit upon the
inspiration of casting all responsibility upon the capable shoulders of
her pupil's mamma, the worshipful Countess Dravikine.

This august lady, though it did not occur to her to seek council with
the Most High, found adequate means of disposing of the undesirable
gift. It was a matter of considerable satisfaction to her that Nathalie
had not been made cognizant of the little affair. Yet the watchful
mother would have been not a little amazed could she have read the
depths of her demure daughter's mind, and found there a vague but
unquestionable disappointment at having in so many months received
neither word nor message from her Moscow cousin. It was odd that Madame
Dravikine should not have realized, by this time, that her daughter was
the child of her own heart: and, since her childhood, Caroline Ivanovna
had certainly never failed to recognize the least of her own conquests.
Was it possible that the woman now high in the favor of a second reign,
should have a dunce for a daughter? Yet the mother would probably have
felt something other than satisfaction had she suspected how keenly
Mademoiselle Nathalie had studied her tact and her tactics. It might be
flattery of the sincerest order; but it must, nevertheless, prove rather
too trying for comfort.

It had been in the August of the year 1843 that the court journal of
Petersburg announced, at the head of its budget from Tsarskoe-Selo, at
which fashionable resort the Dravikines were wont to spend part of each
summer, the birth of a daughter to the popular and fascinating Countess,
Caroline Ivanovna. Within the month there began to pour in upon that
lady a flood of congratulations which, upon the occasions of the first
calls, were astutely turned to tactful condolences, it being at length
understood that, while the Count was satisfied with the sex of his
child, the Countess daily vibrated between rage and tears that she
should not have given her house an heir. And since it was unquestionably
madame who ruled the family, young Mademoiselle Nathalie, despite her
remarkable eyes, her curling black hair and her rose-leaf skin, cam