As the two guests had not yet seen all that the castle contained, Pauline proposed to spend an hour in sauntering through its apartments, a proposal to which both readily assented, and so, with Beauvais accompanying them, they set out on the round; and as the doctor kept close to Pauline’s side, it of course fell to Wilfrid’s lot to escort the Princess. As became a place that had once been the residence of an empress, and that had seen little change in its furnishings since her death, Castle Runö contained much to interest the new-comers. With dramatic reserve Pauline kept to the last her fairest surprise, namely, the Hall of the Czars, a gallery so called because its walls were decorated with all the procurable portraits of the Russian emperors. To Catharine’s original collection additions had been made by the castle’s successive tenants, including Pauline herself, whose contribution was represented by two pictures, one being the likeness of the late Paul, and the other that of his son Alexander. Of the many portraits the last-named was naturally the one to attract most attention. Very keen was the look bestowed both by Pauline and the doctor upon Marie as she gazed at the face of the reigning Czar. To judge from their manner one might almost have thought them imbued with the belief that the sight of this portrait would effect the instant restoration of Marie’s memory, and they felt a sense of relief on finding themselves wrong. Certainly the Princess stayed longer before this portrait than any other, but her lingering was due to the story told her by Wilfrid. This was the Czar who had challenged him to a duel for a fault—if fault it were—that was hers and not Wilfrid’s. Thinking of this, she felt more than ever drawn towards the daring young Englishman who had gone forth to vindicate her honour with his sword. She contrasted Wilfrid’s countenance with the Czar’s as portrayed on the canvas before her, and unhesitatingly gave the preference to Wilfrid’s. If the character of a man is to be learned from his personal exterior, then in her opinion Wilfrid’s disposition was frank and open, Alexander’s secretive and ambiguous. A similar conclusion forced itself upon Pauline, for she, too, had been making a mental comparison between the two men. Her sigh, noticed only by Beauvais, drew from him the whispered comment:— “You are repenting?” “Never!” she exclaimed emphatically. “For the sake of _la belle France_,” murmured Beauvais encouragingly. “What,” said Pauline, addressing Marie, “what is your opinion of Alexander’s face?” “It is a handsome one, but—but there is something about it I do not like,” she replied, speaking in a somewhat lower tone as if afraid that the portrait, overhearing the remark, might do something to show its resentment. “See how cold the eyes are! It—seems to be frowning at me,” she continued timorously. “What do you think of it, Lord Courtenay?” she added, turning to Wilfrid.