Olga Nicolaïevna was reading “Les Miserables,” and had reached the description of the battle of Waterloo. At the beginning of the letter she handed me a list of the words she had not understood, in accordance with our practice. What was my astonishment to see in it the word which is forever associated with the name of the officer who commanded the Guard. I felt certain I had not forgotten my usual precautions. I asked for the book to verify my marginal note, and realised my omission. To avoid a delicate explanation I struck out the wretched word and handed back the list to the Grand-Duchess. She cried, “Why, you’ve struck out the word I asked papa about yesterday!” I could not have been more thunderstruck if the bolt had fallen at my feet. “What! You asked your----” “Yes, and he asked me how I’d heard of it, and then said it was a very strong word which must not be repeated, though in the mouth of that general it was the finest word in the French language.” A few hours later I met the Czar when I was out walking in the park. He took me on one side and said in a very serious tone: “You are teaching my daughters a very curious vocabulary, monsieur....” I floundered in a most involved explanation. But the Czar burst out laughing, and interrupted: “Don’t worry, monsieur. I quite realised what happened, [Illustration: THE CZARINA AND THE CZAREVITCH IN THE COURT OF THE PALACE AT LIVADIA. AUTUMN, 1913.] [Illustration: THE CZARINA SEWING IN THE GRAND-DUCHESSES’ ROOM. {_Facing page 74._] so I told my daughter that the word was one of the French army’s greatest claims to fame.” Tatiana Nicolaïevna was rather reserved, essentially well balanced, and had a will of her own, though she was less frank and spontaneous than her elder sister. She was not so gifted, either, but this inferiority was compensated by more perseverance and balance. She was very pretty, though she had not quite Olga Nicolaïevna’s charm. If the Czarina made any difference between her children, Tatiana Nicolaïevna was her favourite. It was not that her sisters loved their mother any less, but Tatiana knew how to surround her with unwearying attentions and never gave way to her own capricious impulses. Through her good looks and her art of self-assertion she put her sister in the shade in public, as the latter, thoughtless about herself, seemed to take a back seat. Yet the two sisters were passionately devoted to each other. There was only eighteen months between them, and that in itself was a bond of union. They were called “the big pair,” while Marie Nicolaïevna and Anastasie Nicolaïevna were still known as the “little pair.”