re; and officers and men alike began to let their backs
relax a little, and were taking less notice of dust-flecks on their
uniforms. In the suburbs, at Tsarskoe-Selo, for instance, there were now
many villas whose eyes had closed for the night of winter--their
recently open windows and doors being dismally boarded over; while their
aristocratic owners were indulging in a last informal holiday at some
one of the foreign Spas, before the serious business of winter sleighing
and court balls should recommence. This year there was, however, less
flitting than usual; for men in high places had been made to understand
the full significance of an imperial whisper that the ministers and
their aides remain in close touch with Peterhof and the Hermitage.
Europe was under a tension of hope--and fear. And the Bear and the Lion
crouched face to face, every muscle rigid, eyes glued upon each other,
ears strained to catch every faintest echo from the booming of northern
guns in that far-off land where America lay, already torn and bleeding
with the first lacerations of her terrible inward strife.

In the first week of September, Lieutenant Gregoriev, returning from a
visit to his father in Moscow, rejoined Captain de Windt in their
apartment in the little Pereolouk.--Thus the court journal: whereby the
young man should have perceived himself to have ascended at least one
more round of the social ladder. If he did not realize this, however,
Ivan was still in a very excellent frame of mind. His stay with his
father had been pleasanter than he had hoped; for Prince Michael, who
began to see his every ambition realized in the probable future of his
son, had been more agreeable to him than ever before, and absolutely
magnificent in his generosity. Ivan felt a little thrill of amazement
every time he recalled the amount of money at his command. Moreover,
here was a new season coming on; and one that promised him delight
untold. For was it not to bring the debut of his cousin Nathalie? She,
light of his dreams, no longer to be shut away from his eyes, or voice,
or even--speak of it reverently!--arms, perhaps--stood where he had
stood a year before: on the threshold of the ballroom of youth. The
world was to know her well; for her mother, always advocate of the
_dernier cri de la mode_, had decided, months before, that she, like a
dozen ladies of the highest Russian world, would adopt, for her
daughter, the English fashion; and actually allow