Five years have elapsed since the events we have just related, and on the evening of the 12th of May, 18--the anniversary of the terrible catastrophe on the Versailles railroad, the following scene was taking place. It was half-past nine in the evening, and a young woman about twenty-five years of age, a decided brunette, with a perfect figure, and a remarkably spirituelle and high-bred face, was just completing a superb evening toilet with the assistance of two maids, one of whom had just clasped a necklace of diamonds as big as hazelnuts around the neck of her beautiful mistress, while another adjusted a magnificent diadem of the same costly gems upon the lady's beautiful black hair. The low corsage, too, of pale green satin, trimmed with superb lace and bows of pale pink satin ribbon, also glittered with precious stones. The selection of diamonds as ornaments seemed to have been the result of careful reflection, for on a table close by were several cases containing complete and no less costly garnitures. Two of them, one composed of enormous rubies, the other of magnificent pearls of extraordinary size and lustre, would have excited the admiration of any jeweller. One of the attendants, who was much older than her companion, seemed--thanks, probably, to her long service--to be on quite familiar terms with her mistress, who, like herself was a Russian, and the other maid, a young Frenchwoman, not understanding the Russian language, consequently heard without understanding the following conversation between the Comtesse Zomaloff and her trusted maid, Mlle. Katinka: "Does madame like the way in which I have adjusted her diadem?" "Very well," replied the countess. And with a final glance in the glass, she added, as she rose: "Where is my bouquet?" "Here, madame." "What, that horrid withered thing!" cried Madame Zomaloff. "It is the one M. le duc sent for madame la comtesse." "I recognise his taste," said Madame Zomaloff, shrugging her shoulders. Then she added, with a mocking air, "It is one he picked up at a bargain, I'll be bound. Some lover who quarrelled with his sweetheart yesterday morning failed to send last evening for the bouquet he had ordered. It takes M. de Riancourt to discover such bargains." "Ah, madame cannot suppose M. le duc is as stingy as all that. He is so rich." "All the more reason that he should be." Some one rapped at the door of the chamber adjoining the dressing-room, and the French maid who went to answer the summons returned in a moment to say: "M. le Duc de Riancourt has come, and is awaiting madame's pleasure." "Let him wait," replied Madame Zomaloff. "The princess is in the drawing-room, I suppose." "Yes, madame la comtesse." "Very well. Here, Katinka, fasten this bracelet," continued the young woman, holding out her beautiful arm. "What time is it?" But as Katinka was about to reply, Madame Zomaloff added, with a mocking smile: