“Here’s ignorance, forsooth, from a three months’ resident in St. Petersburg! Why, Prince Sumaroff’s palace and gardens by the Nevka are one of the sights of St. Petersburg. A fortnight from to-day he gives a fancy dress ball, to which you are certain to be invited, by reason of your rank.” “How so?” “The Prince’s aim is to gather to the ball every titled personage in St. Petersburg, whether native or foreign, ranking from baron upwards. ‘I am perhaps prejudiced,’ he is credited with saying, ‘but for me, mankind begins with the rank of baron.’ So, you see, the ball is to consist of the _crême de la crême_ of Society. To add to its splendour, Alexander himself and the young Czarina have consented to be present.” “And the Court ladies?” Pauline replied in the affirmative, wondering at the quickness with which Wilfrid put the question. Then divining the cause, she added with a smile— “So, possibly, you may meet your fair _incognita_ there.” This was the hope that had just entered Wilfrid’s mind. Since the Duchess was one of the Court ladies, what more likely than that she would be present at this fête in company with the Czarina? What woman, especially a Russian woman, can resist the attraction of a dance? Now that the Pahlen Ministry had fallen, it would be a matter of honour with her to redeem her word by bestowing upon him the promised kiss; and since every guest must be masked, such disguise would enable him to approach the Duchess without attracting attention or creating suspicion. To this fête, then, it behoved him to go, and next day he received a ticket of invitation. At nightfall there came something still more agreeable, in the shape of a visit from the blind Alexis Voronetz, who brought with him a pretty blue scarf embroidered with silver. “Wear this at the masquerade.” And without any more words he withdrew, ignoring Wilfrid’s request for an explanation, though, in truth, one was scarcely required. From whom did this favour come, if not from the Duchess? It was a proof that she intended to be present at the approaching fête, and was desirous of fixing some token upon Wilfrid to enable her to distinguish him from among the crowd of masked dancers. Thirteen days yet before he would meet her! How was he to live through them all? The first four, measured by Wilfrid’s feelings, seemed more like four months: on the fifth, however, came a welcome diversion in the arrival of Lord St. Helens, the British plenipotentiary, sent to consider the peace proposals of the Czar. There was assigned to him and his suite a stately mansion on the Nevski Prospekt, at the point where it is crossed by the Fontanka Canal. Wilfrid lost no time in calling upon the old gentleman, who was delighted to see his nephew, and proud likewise of his late achievements in the political arena. “Ah! my boy,” said he, “since you can do great things in an unofficial capacity, what would you do as a diplomatist?” “Much less,” replied Wilfrid drily.