“It is the way of my Czar,” returned Ivan proudly. “Did you ever hear what passed between him and Kosakoski, the most devoted of Napoleon’s Polish adherents? ‘Is it true that you followed Napoleon to Fontainebleau?’ asked the Czar. ‘Yes, sire,’ returned the Pole who certainly had the courage of his opinions. ‘I was with him till he left it; and then, if he had asked me to go with him, I would have done it.’ The Czar was silent for a moment, then he asked him, ‘What is it you wish for most?’ ‘The restoration of my property,’ said Kosakoski. The Czar immediately wrote an order to that effect, and gave it to him. It is well known that his heart, since his boyhood, has yearned to heal the wounds and to atone for the wrongs of Poland. The Polish hostage, Czartoriski, was the friend of his youth; and in their long confidential talks they planned together to build the old waste places and gather the scattered members of the oppressed nationality. Now Czartoriski reproaches him with doing far too little; while Russia, loyal but perplexed, suspects him of doing too much; and Europe accuses him of caring for nothing but the extension of his own frontier. And your King, Louis Dix-huit,” continued Ivan with some bitterness, “to whom he gave a throne, treats him as an enemy.” They had almost reached their home when this was said, so Henri was spared the necessity of a rejoinder, nor did he greatly care to make one, Legitimist though he was. Many a happy talk had Clémence and Ivan in those days about things past and future--things seen and unseen. Their engagement was now openly avowed; the trousseau of the bride was in preparation, and all was arranged except the wedding-day. Madame de Salgues was becoming reconciled to an alliance which would give her niece the title of Princess, and was lavish in her presents of jewellery and costly laces. Since the Restoration her life had become less secluded; many of the returned _émigrés_ frequented her house, and found the young Russian prince, the _futur_ of Mademoiselle Clémence, a very pleasant addition to their society. One evening Madame de Salgues gave an entertainment to a few of her friends. It was a supper, refined and elegant, but unpretending, such as, in her own words, “used to be _de bon ton_ before the Revolution and the bourgeoisie spoiled everything, when we did not come together to eat and to drink, but to converse and to enjoy one another’s society.”