The Dark Star

The Princess is simply adorable. Always we are busy, Princess Naïa and

I; and now, since I have laid aside mourning, we go to concerts; we go

to plays; we have been six times to the opera, and as many more to the

Théâtre Français; we have been to the Louvre and the Luxembourg many

times; to St. Cloud, Versailles, Fontainebleau.

Always, when my studies are over, we do something interesting; and I

am beginning to know Paris, and to care for it with real affection; to

feel secure and happy and at home in this dear, glittering,

silvery-grey city--full of naked trees and bridges and palaces. And,

sometimes when I feel homesick, and lonely, and when Brookhollow seems

very, very far away, it troubles me a little to find that I am not

nearly so homesick as I think I ought to be. But I think it must be

like seasickness; it is too frightful to last.

The Princess Mistchenka has nursed me through the worst. All I can say

is that she is very wonderful.

On her day, which is Thursday, her pretty salon is thronged. At

first I was too shy and embarrassed to be anything but frightened and

self-conscious and very miserable when I sat beside her on her

Thursdays. Besides, I was in mourning and did not appear on formal

occasions.

Now it is different; I take my place beside her; I am not

self-conscious; I am interested; I find pleasure in knowing people who

are so courteous, so considerate, so gay and entertaining.

Everybody is agreeable and gay, and I am sorry that I miss so much

that is witty in what is said; but I am learning French very rapidly.

The men are polite to me! At first I was so gauche, so stupid and

provincial, that I could not bear to have anybody kiss my hand and pay

me compliments. I've made a lot of other mistakes, too, but I never

make the same mistake twice.

So many interesting men come to our Thursdays; and some women. I

prefer the men, I think. There is one old French General who is a

dear; and there are young officers, too; and yesterday two cabinet

ministers and several people from the British and Russian embassies.

And the Turkish Chargé, whom I dislike.

The women seem to be agreeable, and they all are most beautifully

gowned. Some have titles. But all seem to be a little too much made

up. I don't know any of them except formally. But I feel that I know

some of the men better--especially the old General and a young

military attaché of the Russian Embassy, whom everybody likes and

pets, and whom everybody calls Prince Erlik--such a handsome boy! And

his real name is Alak, and I think he is very much in love with

Princess Naïa.