“Chance is not at home. Sophie found that out for me. He is in Moscow with his master. I hope he will come pretty soon. To-morrow we are going to drive, Sophie and auntie, Katy and I. Auntie don’t go out much; just sits by the fire and mopes. She isn’t half as up and coming as she used to be. I wonder what ails her!”
The day after Jack made his last entry we took the drive in a smart turnout, for we were Sophie’s guests for the time and she did nothing small. All along the crowded Nevsky we went until we came to the street where I had my encounter with Carl.
“Would you mind driving down that way a little?” I asked.
Sophie looked her surprise, but was too well-bred to refuse or ask why I wished to go into so unfashionable a quarter.
“I knew an old lady who lived in that house,” I said, pointing to the door where Ursula had sat when Carl made his attack on me.
It was closed now, with no sign of life about it, and the untrodden snow was piled high against it.
“No one lives here. She is in Siberia still. We may as well go back,” I said.
At the mention of Siberia Sophie became excited at once, asking who Ursula was and how I came to know her. I told her all I cared to, keeping back as much as possible the part M. Seguin and Chance had played in the matter. Evidently she did not care to hear of them, but as we were coming near the house on our return, I asked if she knew Madame Seguin.
“Only by reputation,” she answered. “They say she is very aristocratic—sees few people, but sits in her great house nursing her pride in what she used to be before they lost so much property when the serfs were emancipated. We lost, too, but we kept up a brave, cheerful heart till father was arrested. There is Madame Seguin now, just returning from her drive,” she continued, nodding toward a handsome sledge drawn by two spirited horses, with a coachman in livery.
The lady in the sledge was wrapped in the richest of furs and sat up as erect as a young girl. Only her eyes were visible, and they were beady and black and not at all like what I could see of Michel’s eyes. She did not glance toward us, but held her head high as we passed each other.