The Countess, in a delightful white-cat costume, with diamond eyes and jewelled paws, was the life and soul of the revels; flying hither and thither, her little feet in their white fur boots treading as lightly as her namesake, and startling more than one king of the forest by the sharp tap of a little fur paw, and the merry smile beneath the pussy-head that covered her giddy little brain.
It was during one of these frolicsome onslaughts that she caught sight of Ivor Tolskoi's fresh face and yellow locks, looking ridiculously out of keeping under the heavy disguise of a polar bear. She ran up to him lightly, and stood before him laughing, a tiny figure set against his feet and inches.
"Oh, my brave Ursa Major!" she exclaimed, "what a beautiful fierce creature you are, to be sure! I am quite frightened to look at you."
Ivor glanced down at her smiling, but he failed to toss back her jesting words with an equally quick repartee.
The little Countess laughed and shook her head, until the diamond eyes in the pussy-cat mask danced with a thousand reflections.
"Oh, what a cross Ursa Major it is!" she cried, "and all because of some one who is not here, and who will not come." Then she came a step nearer, and, dropping her bantering tone, said quickly: "I am sorry for your disappointment, mon cher, but it is one of the prerogatives of beauty, to be fickle. She would, and she would not, and the latter, you see, won the day. Olga Naundorff has declined to honour my ball with her presence. But is that a matter of such grave importance to you? Ah, I see, it is the old story; he who has most, always craves more. You are not satisfied with having won the Court favourite, even to the naming of the wedding day, but you must be miserable because she is not always present to swell your triumph! Be content, my dear boy, you have won her, and broken Vladimir Mellikoff's heart, that ought to suffice; and after you are married, you can force her to attend any and all kinds of festivities."
Ivor did not respond to this pleasant outlook, and Vera, with a mutinous grimace, continued, banteringly:
"For my part, my sympathies all go out to that most unfortunate Count Mellikoff. Only to think of what he has come to! So established as he was in the Emperor's regard, so esteemed by the Chancellerie; such a diplomatist and courtier, so distinguished and beyond reproach. And now, behold, where is he? Poof! he is but a feather, blown about by each contrary wind of prejudice. A failure, a fallen idol, a suspect. Bah, I would rather die than be a failure! Be content, mon cher, be content; you are on the crest of the wave, don't spoil your success by a fit of the sulks."
Then she laughed again, and shook her fan of soft white feathers at him, and fluttered off to a sedate elephant, whose thin cheeks and eagle eyes beneath the grotesque head-gear, betrayed him to be a certain State minister, whose word was law, whose smile power.
"Such a foolish boy I never saw," cooed the Countess Vera in the statesman's ear, "as that Ivor Tolskoi. Not contented with ruining Vladimir Mellikoff, and winning the lady of his affections, he mopes because, forsooth, she is not here to illustrate his triumph. Youth is very hard and illogical, monsieur; it takes older heads and hearts to be merciful." And the little Countess sighed profoundly.