suddenness.  He has endeavored to explain to me the reaction, as he calls it, which occurred, but I seem to have no head for chemistry, and besides, if I am to be blown through the roof some of these days it will be no consolation to me when I come down upon the pavement outside to know accurately the different elements which contributed to my elevation.  Jack is very patient in trying to instruct me, but he could not resist the temptation of making me ashamed by saying that your friend, Miss Katherine Kempt, would have known at once the full particulars of the reaction.  Indeed, he says, she warned him of the disaster, by marking a passage in a book she gave him which foreshadowed this very thing.  She must be a most remarkable young woman, and it shows how stupid I am that I did not in the least appreciate this fact when in her company.”

The next letter was received a week later.  He was getting on swimmingly, both at the Foreign Office and at the Russian Admiralty.  All the officials he had met were most courteous and anxious to advance his interests.  He wrote about the misapprehensions held in England regarding Russia, and expressed his resolve to do what he could when he returned to remove these false impressions.

“Of course,” he went on, “no American or Englishman can support or justify the repressive measures so often carried out ruthlessly by the Russian police.  Still, even these may be exaggerated, for the police have to deal with a people very much different from our own.  It is rather curious that at this moment I am in vague trouble concerning the police.  I am sure this place is watched, and I am also almost certain that my friend Jack is being shadowed.  He dresses like a workman; his grimy blouse would delight the heart of his friend Tolstoi, but he is known to be a Prince, and I think the authorities imagine he is playing up to the laboring class, whom they despise.  I lay it all to that unfortunate explosion, which gathered the police about us as if they had sprung from the ground.  There was an official examination, of course, and Jack explained, apparently to everybody’s satisfaction, exactly how he came to make the mistake that resulted in the loss of his beard and his windows.  I don’t know exactly how to describe the feeling of uneasiness which has come over me.  At first sight this city did not strike me as so very much different from New York or London, and meeting, as I did, so many refined gentlemen in high places, I had come to think St. Petersburg was after all very much like Paris, or Berlin, or Rome.  But it is different, and the difference makes itself subtly felt, just as the air in some coast towns of Britain is relaxing, and in others bracing.  In these towns a man doesn’t notice the effect at first, but later on he begins to feel it, and so it is here in St. Petersburg.  Great numbers of workmen pass down our street.  They all seem to know who the Prince is, and the first days we were here, they saluted him with a deference