The Daughter of an Empress

Some hours later the elite of the higher Russian nobility were

assembled in the magnificent halls of the regent. Princes and counts,

generals and diplomatists, beautiful women and blooming maidens, all

moved in a confused intermixture, jesting and laughing with each other.

They were all very gay on this evening, as the regent had herself set

the example. With the most unconstrained cheerfulness, radiant with joy,

did she wander through the rooms, dispensing smiles and agreeable words

among all whom she approached. She bore in her bosom the glowing and

cherished letter of her lover, and at its lightest rustling she seemed

to feel the immediate presence of the writer. That was the secret of her

gayety and her joyous smiles. People, perhaps, knew not this secret, but

they saw its effects, and, as the all-powerful regent deigned this day

to be cheerful and smiling, it was natural for this host of slavish

nobility, who breathe nothing but the air of the court, to adopt for

this evening's motto, "Gayety and smiles."

As we have said, only smiling lips and faces beaming with joy were to

be seen; all breathed pleasure and enjoyment, all jested and laughed;

it seemed as if all care and sorrow had fled from this happy, select

circle, to give place to the delights of life. They had, with submissive

humility, repressed all discontent and disaffection, all envyings and

enmities; they chatted and laughed, while every one knew or suspected

that they were standing on a volcano, whose overwhelming eruptions might

be expected at any moment, and yet every one feigned the most perfect

innocence and unconstraint. The ladies scrutinized each other's

magnificent and costly toilets, jesting and exchanging amorous glances

with the gentlemen displaying orders and diamond crosses.

A movement suddenly arose in the rooms, the crowd divided and

respectfully withdrew to the sides, and through the rows of smiling,

humbly bowing courtiers passed the Princess Elizabeth, followed by her

chamberlain Woronzow, her private secretary Alexis Razumovsky, and

her physician Lestocq, in the splendor of her beauty and grace, all

kindness, all smiles. She was to-day wonderfully charming in her

gold-spangled lace dress, which flowed like a breath over her

under-dress of heavy white satin. Her widely-bared, full and luxuriant

shoulders were partially covered by a costly lace mantelet, the present

of the French queen, and her long, floating ringlets were surmounted by

a wreath of white roses such as only Parisian artistic skill could offer

in such perfect imitation of nature. Thus enveloped as it were in a veil

of white mist and floating vapors, Elizabeth's beauty appeared only the

more full and voluptuous. She looked like a purple rose standing

out from a cloud of fluttering snow-flakes, wonderfully charming,

wonderfully seductive. Princess Elizabeth was fully conscious of the

impression she made, and this internal satisfaction manifested itself

in a sweet smile which increased the charm of her appearance. With pride

and pleasure she enjoyed the triumph of being the fairest of all the

beauties present, and this triumph contented her heart.