Prince Felix Yousopoff, whose name will always be connected with the tragedy of Rasputin, first met him at the house of Mme Golovina, a sister-in-law of the Grand Duke Paul. The demoiselle Golovina greatly admired Felix Yousopoff, in fact her “flamme” for him was well known. Some considerable time elapsed between the first meeting of Prince Felix and Rasputin: I spent the next two years chiefly in Reval, but I used to pay a fortnightly visit to the Empress, and, after my husband was sent to England, I went to Petrograd, where I saw the Empress daily. I was very surprised when she told me that Felix Yousopoff was a constant visitor at Rasputin’s house; in fact I was so incredulous that I asked Rasputin whether this was true. “Yes--it’s quite true,” he answered, “I have a great affection for Prince Yousopoff, I never call him anything else but ‘Little One.’” Mary Golovina, to whom also I expressed my astonishment, said that Prince Yousopoff declared that Rasputin’s prayers benefited him: so there was nothing more to be said. On December 16th, when I was at Tsarkoe Selo, I told the Empress that I wanted to see Rasputin on the morrow, but just before starting for his house--about five o’clock on the afternoon of December 17th--I was rung up from Tsarkoe Selo--the Empress wished to speak to me. Her voice seemed agitated. “Lili,” she said, “don’t go to Father Gregory’s to-day. Something strange has happened. He disappeared last night--nothing has been heard of him, but I’m sure it will be all right. Will you come to the Palace at once?” Thoroughly startled by this disturbing news, I lost no time in taking the train to Tsarkoe Selo. An Imperial carriage was waiting for me, and I soon found myself at the Palace. The Empress was in her mauve boudoir; once again I felt the premonition of coming disaster, but I endeavoured to disregard it. Never did the “cabinet mauve” look so home-like. The air was sweet with the fragrance of many flowers and the clean odour of burning wood; the Empress was lying down, the Grand Duchesses sat near her, and Anna Virouboff was sitting on a footstool close to the couch. The Empress was very pale--her blue eyes were full of trouble, the young girls were silent, and Anna had evidently been weeping. I heard all there was to tell me; Gregory had disappeared, but I believe the Empress never imagined for one moment that he was dead. She discountenanced any sinister conjectures; she soothed the ever weeping Anna, and then she told me what she wished me to do. “You will sleep in Anna’s house to-night,” she said. “I want you to see people for me to-morrow--I am advised that it will be better for me not to do so.” I told the Empress that I was only too happy to be of service to her, and, after dinner, I went to Anna’s house, which I was astonished to find in the occupation of the Secret Police!