A few days after there was a brilliant reunion at Princess Shadursky's. All the beauty and fashion of St. Petersburg were invited, and few who were invited failed to come. It happened that Prince Shadursky was an admirer of the fair sex, and also that he had had the pleasure of meeting the brilliant Baroness von Döring at Hamburg, and again in Paris. It was, therefore, to be expected that Baroness von Döring should be found in the midst of an admiring throng at Princess Shadursky's reception. Her brother, Ian Karozitch, was also there, suave, alert, dignified, losing no opportunity to make friends with the distinguished company that thronged the prince's rooms. Late in the evening the baroness and her brother might have been seen engaged in a _tête-à-tête_, seated in two comfortable armchairs, and anyone who was near enough might have heard the following conversation: "How goes it?" Karozitch asked in a low tone. "As you see, I am making a hit," answered the baroness in the same quiet tone. But her manner was so detached and indifferent that no one could have guessed her remark was of the least significance. It should be noted that this was her first official presentation to St. Petersburg society. And in truth her beauty, united with her lively intellect, her amiability, and her perfect taste in dress, had produced a general and even remarkable effect. People talked about her and became interested in her, and her first evening won her several admirers among those well placed in society. "I have been paying attention to the solid capitalists," replied Karozitch; "we have made our _début_ in the _rôle_ of practical actors. Well, what about him?" he continued, indicating Prince Shadursky with his eyes. "In the web," she replied, with a subtle smile. "Then we can soon suck his brains?" "Soon--but he must be tied tighter first. But we must not talk here." A moment later Karozitch and the baroness were in the midst of the brilliant groups of guests. A few late comers were still arriving. "Count Kallash!" announced the footman, who stood at the chief entrance to the large hall. At this new and almost unknown but high-sounding name, many eyes were turned toward the door through which the newcomer must enter. A hum of talk spread among the guests: "Count Kallash----" "Who is he----?" "It is a Hungarian name--I think I heard of him somewhere." "Is this his first appearance?" "Who is this Kallash? Oh, yes, one of the old Hungarian families----" "How interesting----" Such questions and answers crossed each other in a running fire among the various groups of guests who filled the hall, when a young man appeared in the doorway. He lingered a moment to glance round the rooms and the company; then, as if conscious of the remarks and glances directed toward him, but completely "ignoring" them, and without the least shyness or awkwardness, he walked quietly through the hall to the host and hostess of the evening.