“Well, Madame, _write_ to him. Think how pleased he will be.” I drew the Empress towards the writing-table, and she sank on a chair.... “Write, dear Madame, write,” I repeated. She obeyed almost like a child, murmuring, “Yes, Lili ... how glad he’ll be.” Feeling that I might venture to leave the Empress for a few minutes, I went in search of Dr. Botkin, who gave me a composing draught for her.... But the Empress did not wish to take it, and it was only when I said: “For _his_ sake, Madame,” that she complied. The sound of bitter weeping now attracted my attention. In one corner of the room crouched the Grand Duchess Marie. She was as pale as her mother. She _knew_ all! At this moment Volkoff, that faithful servant, entered, and in trembling tones announced that dinner was served. The Empress rose and endeavoured to regain her composure.... I followed her into the next room. She looked round. “Where is Marie?” she said. I went back to the red drawing-room. Marie was still crouching in the corner. She was so young, so helpless, so hurt, that I felt I must comfort her as one comforts a child. I knelt beside her, her head rested on my shoulder. I kissed her tear-stained face. “Darling,” I said, “don’t cry.... You will make Mamma so unhappy. Think of _her_.” At the words, “Think of _her_,” the Grand Duchess remembered the unswerving devotion of the children towards their parents. Every thing was always subservient to Mamma and Papa. “Ah ... I’d forgotten, Lili. Yes, I must think of Mamma,” she answered. Little by little her sobs ceased, her composure returned, and she went with me to her mother. That night the Empress and I sat up very late: she had paid her usual visit to the Grand Duchesses, when she had tried outwardly to appear calm. But alone with me it was a different matter. The Empress told me that the Emperor had abdicated in favour of the Tsarevitch. “Now _he’ll_ be taken from me,” she cried. “The people are to assume the Regency. What shall I do?” She started at every footfall; she trembled at the mere sound of a voice.... One idea obsessed her--someone might come at any moment to take away her son! “But, Madame, nothing can be done until the Emperor returns.” “No, surely they will not dare; and he’ll be with us very soon,” she said. Then, with her usual unselfishness, the Empress insisted upon seeing Count Benckendorff. “I must console him and strengthen him. I can imagine his state of mind.” It was an affecting interview.... I do not know what actually transpired, but, when the Empress returned, she was crying. “_Le pauvre vieux_,” she murmured, as if to herself.