The accounts of Stéphanie were particularly interesting to her. How the approbation of that young lady’s guardian had ever been obtained by a suitor who had so small a portion of this world’s goods to offer as Henri de Talmont, was certainly a mystery. The letters only solved it indirectly. That of Madame de Talmont was the most satisfactory. She observed that the will of Stéphanie’s guardian was very weak, while that of Stéphanie herself was remarkably strong. When M. de Galmar informed her of Henri’s proposal, adding, as a matter of course, that he would decline it for her, she was far too decorous and well-bred to make the smallest objection; but she told him very quietly that she had often thought of embracing a religious life, and that as her friend Madame de Krudener was now about to found a missionary community--she believed among the Tartars on the Danube--she wished to signify her intention of joining it as soon as she came of age. “Your cousin is a strange girl,” M. de Galmar observed afterwards to his daughter Coralie. “But, after all, a Protestant is not as bad as a Tartar. Nor is dining upon three courses, instead of twelve, quite as bad as being dined upon oneself by cannibals in some of those savage countries. She had better take the young architect.” Clémence looked up from her letter with an air of amusement, which changed into one of grave anxiety as she saw the serious face of Ivan bending over her. She drew a chair for him near the fire, and said, “I am longing to hear all, Ivan. Why did the Czar send for you? How did you find him?” Ivan answered the last question first: “Looking depressed and weary, and his deafness more apparent than ever. I had to sit quite close to him, and to raise my voice to make him hear. He spoke very mournfully of the state of things in Siberia, whence the Governor-General, Speranski, has just returned, bringing sad accounts of the prevalence of corruption and dishonesty in the public service. For the present the vigorous measures of Speranski have checked these evils, though at the expense of removing the governor from every province save one. He has sent these unfaithful governors here for their trial; and most of them will probably be sent back to Siberia as convicts. But now his own health has broken down, and he is obliged to quit his post. There is need--great need--of faithful and active men to continue and carry out the reforms he has begun.” Here Ivan paused, took the hand of Clémence in his, and with a look full of tenderness continued his narrative--“The Czar said to me sadly, ‘There are so few that I can trust. Will _you_ help me in this thing, Prince Ivan Ivanovitch?’” Clémence started, and her sweet face glowed with a sudden colour, then grew pale again as rapidly. “_O Ivan!_” she exclaimed. “And what did you say to him?” “What _could_ I say? Is it amongst things possible--conceivable--that my Czar should ask me to help him, and be refused?”