The Daughter of an Empress

But the central point of the festival was the monstrous gigantic hall

which the cardinal had caused to be erected in the centre of the garden

expressly for this occasion. The walls of muslin and flowers were held

together by more than a hundred gilded pillars, the girandoles attached

to each of which diffused a sea of light. Silken carpets covered

the floor, and the plafond of this gigantic hall was formed by the

thousand-starred arch of heaven. Here, also, niches and grottoes

were everywhere to be found; in them one could, in the midst of the

constantly moving and noisy crowd, enjoy quiet and repose.

Only one of these niches was inaccessible, as it appears, to the

company, and yet it was precisely this which excited the curiosity of

all, and which all, whispering, approached, anxious to get a peep behind

the closed thick silken curtains, before which two richly gallooned

servants of the cardinal walked back and forth with solemn earnestness,

but respectfully requesting every one to comply with the cardinal's

wishes and not approach the mysterious drapery, but await his own time

for the solution of the enigma! A few steps led up to this closed and

covered niche; these steps were strewed with roses, that was plainly

seen; but, to what did these steps lead, and what was thus carefully

concealed?

A precious surprise, certainly, for it was the forte of the cardinal

to prepare surprises for the agreeable entertainment of his guests. The

ladies and gentlemen, the cardinals and princes of the Church, crowded

around him begging for an explanation of the mystery, a disclosure of

the secret.

"I am myself uninitiated," said Cardinal Bernis, laughing; "some

divinity may have taken a seat there, or perhaps it is a sphinx which

will from thence give us the solution of her enigma. But let us see what

belated guests are now coming to us."

And the cardinal with zealous precipitation approached the principal

entrance to the hall, the portieres of which had just been drawn

aside, and behind was seen Natalie at the hand of Paulo.

As if blinded by the sudden flood of light, she stood for a moment

still, a purple glow flushing her delicate cheeks, and clinging to

Paulo's arms, she whispered: "Protect me, Paulo, I am so frightened by

this crowd!"

Just at that moment the doorkeeper cried with a loud voice: "Princess

Natalie Tartaroff and Count Paulo!"

At the sound of these strange names all glanced toward the door, and

all flaming, curious, prying eyes were fixed with astonishment and

admiration upon the young maiden.

But Natalie did not remark it. She glanced at Paulo with a glad smile,

and a proud happiness beamed from her features. She had, then, a name;

she was no longer an abandoned, nameless orphan. At length the enigma of

her birth was solved, and what she had so often prayed for, Count Paulo

had vouchsafed her as a surprise to-day.