Her empty palace, rapidly metamorphosed by her own able hands, became one of the most elegant in Warsaw, and she availed herself of the opportunity to display the remarkable domestic qualities she possessed, and which had been so little appreciated by her mother-in-law. During the latter time of her stay at Bel Œil her husband had forbidden her to ride, on account of her delicate health; she now amply made up for that privation. The Prince-Bishop, who thoroughly spoilt her, gave her the most beautiful horses, and she might be seen every morning on horseback escorted by several young noblemen who were perfect horsemen, as are all the Poles. She built a theatre in her palace, and gratified her love of acting to her heart’s content. Freed from the supervision that oppressed her at Bel Œil, Hélène abandoned herself without constraint to the irresistible charms of this life of pleasure. She forgot the past, her husband, and her daughter even; the Princesse Charles de Ligne no longer existed--Hélène Massalska alone remained. Winter was rapidly drawing to a close, and the Princess still gave no thought to Vienna. The de Ligne family, justly offended at her prolonged absence, preserved a disdainful silence. The Prince-Bishop had returned to Wilna during the vacation of the Diet, but his niece, who wished to enjoy the summer season, just then beginning, remained alone at Warsaw. The King, his family, and the most important personages at Court, had elegant country-houses in the suburbs, where they indulged in the most sumptuous and original festivities. The greatest luxury was displayed in these entertainments, where each host endeavoured to surpass his neighbour in planning surprises and unforeseen effects. The first one at which the Princess Charles appeared was given by the Princess André Poniatowska. “The heat on that day had been suffocating; the Prince led his visitors to a grotto formed by an artificial rock, from which fell a cascade, imparting by its very sound a cool and agreeable sensation. Then they all went into the grotto, where they rested for a few minutes on the soft mossy banks, after which the Prince proposed a walk in the park. They entered a shady avenue leading to a door, which was hidden in the foliage; he touched a spring, the door flew open, and disclosed a magnificent circular hall, splendidly illuminated, and painted with frescoes representing allegorical subjects; it was surrounded by niches in the walls containing Turkish divans, which were covered with the richest brocades. The back of these recesses was of a dead gold, contrasting marvellously with the black hair and delicate complexion of the Polish ladies who came to rest in them. They had barely seated themselves when strains of music were heard, which seemed to descend mysteriously from the skies. Suddenly the floor opened, and a table, magnificently laid out, slowly ascended, as if at the touch of a