t her door remained obstinately closed
against all women and every man save her compatriot, Ivan. He, without
apparent effort, broke in at once upon her solitude. So, indeed, had the
young Contessa prophesied, in sprightly conclusion. Then, yawning behind
her fan, she laughed, and commanded the sombre-eyed Russian to take her
back to the dining-room and her own circle of adorers.

Ivan himself finished the evening properly. But, as he walked out into
the night chill, his heart and brain alike were overflowing with
interest, with pity, nay, with a kind of fellow-feeling, for this woman
whose bravery was of the greatest known to humanity. Even to-night he
had looked into the hearts of women of her own former class; and he
shuddered at their conscienceless inconsistency. For the moment,
probably, he forgot the sage maxim concerning "safety in numbers." The
woman who yields herself to a single great passion and will neither hide
it nor cap it with another, is surely lost in the world of to-day--or
yesterday!

* * * * *

Two weeks. Two little weeks; and the new intrigue of Alexandrine
Alexievna Nikitenko, now in her forty-first year, was the great
subject of the Florentine world. For, at the dusty wheels of her
battered chariot, she dragged a new captive.--And such an one!--Their
lion: _the_ lion!--The nobleman of the hour, and a genius to
boot!--Incredible.--Nauseating. Finally, resignation; and covert murmurs
about green bay-trees. All doors, of course, were still open to Prince
Gregoriev. He should have every opportunity for repentance. Only,
apparently, Prince Gregoriev cared naught for their high consideration;
and seemed to have taken a vow to darken only one doorway in the city
beside his own: that hitherto lonely entrance to the apartment of Madame
Nikitenko!

As for Ivan, people might chatter and beckon as they would, his interest
in them was gone. On the other hand, he had become completely absorbed
in the personality of this other, once heart and centre of the gayest
set in civilized society; now dwelling in the fastnesses of an isolation
such as he himself, connoisseur of solitude, had not dreamed of. For in
all existence there can be no such isolation as that of the woman cast
out from among her kind, yet too much one of them to endure the
companionship of others. At the same time, since no brave fight can
leave either man or woman as it found them, so, through the dreary years