“There are no words to express such a happiness,” cried Alexis, pressing the feet of the princess to his bosom.
“Happiness, then, strikes you dumb,” laughed the princess, “and will not allow you to say that you love me? Such are all you men. You envelope yourselves with a convenient silence, and would make us poor women believe the superabundance of feeling deprives you of utterance.”
At this moment the door was softly opened, and a lackey, who made his appearance at the threshold, beckoned to Woronzow.
“What is it, Woronzow?” asked the princess, while, wholly unembarrassed by the presence of the lackey, she played with the profuse dark locks of the kneeling Razumovsky.
“An invitation from the Regent Anna to a court-ball, which is to take place fourteen days hence,” said Woronzow.
“Ah, our good cousin is, then, so gracious as to remember us,” cried the princess, with a somewhat clouded brow. “It will certainly be a very magnificent festival, as we are invited so many days in advance. How sad that I cannot have the pleasure of being present!”
“And why not, if one may be allowed to ask, princess?” asked Woronzow.
“Why?” sighed Elizabeth. “Ask my waiting-woman; she will tell you that the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the great Czar Peter, has not one single robe splendid enough to render her presentable, without mortification, at a court-ball of the regent.”
“Whatever robe you may wear,” passionately interposed Alexis, “you will still be resplendent, for your beauty will impart a divine halo to any dress!”
That was precisely the kind of flattery pleasing to Elizabeth.
“Think you so, flatterer?” asked Elizabeth. “Well, for once I will believe your words, and assume that the Princess Elizabeth may be fair without the aid of splendor in dress. We therefore accept the invitation, Woronzow. Announce that to the regent’s messenger. But still it is sad and humiliating,” continued Elizabeth after a pause, a cloud passing over her usually so cheerful countenance, “yes it is still a melancholy circumstance for the daughter of the great Peter to be so poor that she is not able to dress herself suitably to her rank. Ah, how humiliating is the elevation of my high position, when I cannot even properly reward you, my friends, for your fidelity and attachment!”
“You will one day be able to reward us,” significantly remarked Grunstein. “One day, when an imperial crown surmounts your fair brows, then will your generous heart be able to act according to its noble instincts.”
“Still the same old dreams!” said Elizabeth, shaking her head and letting Razumovsky’s long locks glide through her fingers. “Pay no attention to him, Alexis, he is an enthusiast who dreams of imperial crowns, while I desire nothing but a ball-dress, that in it I may please you, my friend!”
“Oh, you always please me,” whispered Alexis, “and most pleasing are you when—”