“We shall have to wait; she is very much occupied now, learning a hymn on the clavichord. It’s the favourite piece of the grand-duke; she is getting it ready for the concert.”
One day Irena was walking in the park with her hostess. All at once from behind the trees, a fair lady in a light blue silk dress, without any hoops, came towards them.
“Who is that?” asked Irena.
“The Tzarevna,” whispered the housekeeper, bowing very respectfully.
Irena turned faint.
The elegant, though a little inclined to embonpoint, Grand Duchess Marie Feodorovna was then twenty-two, and very lovely.
In passing by Irena, she turned her rather bewildered and short-sighted eyes upon her, as though astonished at her nun’s dress. The Tzarevna was followed by a very tall, thin, pock-marked man in a dark kaftan and cocked hat, carrying a roll of music and a fiddle under his arm.
“And who is that?” asked Rakitina, when they had gone by.
“Paëzsïllo,” answered the housekeeper; “music master to her Imperial Highness.”