I did not allow the Empress to see how apprehensive I was, how utterly despairing. I did not share her optimism.... The position was most precarious, and the desperate condition of the Grand Duchesses augmented the general unhappiness. Our only hope lay in the Emperor’s return--at any rate, his presence would afford us some moral protection! That night Marie and I slept in the red drawing-room. We lay awake for hours talking about the new developments. But one thought consoled us. The Emperor was still alive! When the Empress paid her usual visit to the Grand Duchesses, she told us that her first idea was to see all those in the Palace, and console them as much as possible. Countess Gendrinkoff, her devoted lady-in-waiting, who was away visiting a sick relative, returned to Tsarkoe directly she heard of the Emperor’s abdication, and her meeting with the Empress was most touching. At first neither of them spoke; and then the Countess, usually a most self-contained individual, broke into bitter weeping. It was a tragic morning. Towards noon the Empress sent for me. “Lili,” she said, “the Duma is losing no time. M. Rodziansko[2] has intimated that we must make our preparations for departure. He says we are to meet the Emperor somewhere _en route_. But we can’t possibly go; how can we move the children? I’ve spoken to the doctors, and they say it would be fatal! I’ve told Rodziansko this, and he is returning later to acquaint me with the decision of the Duma.” Rodziansko and his colleagues returned at the time appointed. They were at once taken to the Empress. “The decision of the Duma is unalterable,” said Rodziansko curtly. “But my children--my daughters ...” pleaded the Empress. “When a house is on fire, it is best to leave it,” answered Rodziansko, with a sardonic smile. There was apparently nothing to be done. We were at the mercy of Tiberius, and we commenced our preparations for departure. The Empress asked me if I would like to accompany them. I begged to be permitted to do so. “I _cannot_ leave you, Madame,” I said. We endeavoured to ’phone to certain friends, but it was impossible. At last the operator, in frightened tones, whispered, “I can’t give you the number; the telephone is not in our hands. I beg you, don’t talk--I’ll ring you up directly it is safe.”