"Madam,--Will you pardon a perfect stranger who ventures to request a favour which it is usual to grant only to one's friends, or to duly accredited persons--the favour of being your guest for a short time? You are amazed, madam; but why do you own a mansion whose classic style of architecture and whose internal fittings are the marvel of the land? Why does every one who can judge, laud you as unsurpassed in the horticultural art? I travel through Germany chiefly with the object of studying all that is best and most beautiful in these things, in order to try and imitate it upon my estates in Livadia. I shall not, as I said, trouble you long; only a day or two. To-morrow and the day after, if I may, for I can unfortunately not dispose differently of my time. And as regards the inconvenience I must needs cause you, I will try to reduce it to a minimum. A gardener or forester to pilot me about outside, a steward to show me some of the things inside, a little corner by your fireside, a little place at your table, a little chamber to sleep in; that is all! True, already too much, if I reflect; but one should not reflect, if one is the thorough egotist who has the honour of remaining, Madam, your obedient servant,--Princess Alexandra Paulovna ..."
Hildegard looked up from her letter, and said with a smile--
"I cannot make out the surname."
She passed the letter to Bertram, who was sitting on her right.
"Well," said the Baron, on her left, "she would seem to be a Russian, anyhow."
"No doubt of that. Well, my friend?"
"No," replied Bertram, "I cannot make it out."
"Will you allow me?" said the Baron.
Bertram handed the letter back to Hildegard, who passed it on to the Baron.
"Why," he exclaimed, "it is quite plain, Bo--Bo!" He paused.