Elizabeth knew she was beautiful and attractive, and this was her

pride and her joy. She could easily pardon the German princess, Anna

Leopoldowna, for occupying the throne that was rightfully her own, but

she would never have forgiven the regent had she been handsomer than

herself. Anna Leopoldowna was the most powerful woman in Russia, but

she, Elizabeth, was the handsomest woman in Russia, which was all she

coveted, and she had nothing more to desire.

But at this moment she thought neither of Anna Leopoldowna nor of her

own beauty, but only of the singer who was warbling to her those Russian

popular songs so full of love and sadness that they bring tears into the

Advertisement..

eyes and fill the heart with yearning.

Elizabeth had forgotten all around her--she heard only him, saw only

him; her whole soul lay in the glances with which she observed him, and

around her mouth played one of those bewitching smiles peculiar to her

in moments of joy and satisfaction, and which her courtiers knew and

observed.

He was very handsome, this young singer, and as Elizabeth saw him in

this moment, she congratulated herself that her connoisseur-glance had

quickly remarked him, when, some weeks previously, she had first seen

him as the precentor of the imperial chapel.

Surprised and excited by the beauty of his form and the sweetness of

his voice, Elizabeth had begged him of the lord-marshal for her private

service, and since then Alexis Razumovsky had entered her house as her

private secretary and the manager of her small estate.

While Alexis was singing with his sweetly-melting tones, Elizabeth

turned her swimming eyes to the two men who were standing in respectful

silence behind her.

"You must acknowledge," said she in a low tone, and as if oppressed by

internal commotion, "that you never saw nor heard say any thing finer

than my Alexis."

"Oh, yes," said one of these men, with a low bow, "we have seen you!"

"And did we not yesterday hear you sing this same charming slumber-song,

princess?" asked the other.

Elizabeth smiled. "It is already well known that Woronzow and Grunstein

must always flatter!" said she.

"No, we do not flatter," responded Woronzow, the chamberlain of the

princess, "we only love truth! You ask if we have ever seen any thing

more beautiful than your private secretary, and we answer that we have

seen you!"

"Well, now, you have all so often assured me that I am the handsomest

woman in Russia, that at length I am compelled to believe you. But

Alexis is fortunately a man, and therefore not my rival; you may, then,

fearlessly confess that Alexis is the handsomest of all men! But how

is this?" exclaimed the princess, interrupting herself, as the handsome

young singer suddenly sprang up and threw his guitar aside with an

indignant movement; "do you sing no more, Alexis?"




Most Popular