A storm of comment, ejaculation, exclamations of wonder! Ivan closed his
ears; and opened them again only for the young Contessa Contarini, who,
at a nod from her mother-in-law, undertook enlightenment. Then--one
half-hour in the dim-lit corner of an inner boudoir,--and Ivan found
himself at last _au courant_ of the great scandal of 1869, which,
wonderful to relate, was still, after nearly eighteen years, almost as
interesting as ever: the persistent presence of its heroine almost as
astonishing as in the first days of her ostracism.

It was in the autumn of the year 1867, when the reign of the Liberator
was in the fulness of its fame, that a certain scandal _intime_ began,
in St. Petersburg, to divide interest with the still engrossing topic of
the freed serfs. Every one in society took sides, for or against, in the
quarrel and separation of the young Prince and Princess Nikitenko: both
of whom had been, since their marriage, high in the graces of the
Grand-Ducal circle, and leaders of the fastest set in the capital. When
the trouble between them became noticeable, gossip ran fast and furious;
partly for the reason that no human being seemed to understand just
where the cause of the difficulty lay. Whispered mention of the
Grand-Duke Constantine, madcap-libertine, hero of a thousand escapades,
tended in no way to lessen the interest, though of evidence there seemed
none. The climax proved to be a fitting one, however; for, early in
March, the Princess, with two maids, a valet, her entire wardrobe, and
all save the hereditary jewels, disappeared from the ken of humankind.

Six weeks later she was heard from in Florence, where she remained in
seclusion during the summer, but in the autumn opened a _salon_ which,
in point of brilliance, elegance, and distinction, eclipsed every other
in the Tuscan capital.

The young Princess was a woman of remarkable education, and tremendous
gifts.--So much was always admitted.--Her beauty was a moot point: her
_chic_, never! She threw herself eagerly into the study of those arts
which have made modern Italy what it is; and she rapidly gathered about
her the most talented young men in that part of the country. In the
January of 1869 this company was signally augmented by the arrival of
one Vittorio Lodi, a young Roman tenor; over whose voice--one of those
natural organs found only in that land of the sun--Florence speedily
went mad.

Up to the middle of the ensuing February, the pres