Sophie Narishkin laughed in great amusement. She had learned to lie and fib as quite a little child. Instead of "mamma" she had had to say "madam"; and if her father brought her bonbons to tell people that "Nicolo" (la mère Cicogne) had brought them.
What old Helena told her she dared not repeat to "madam"; what she heard when with "madam" she must not breathe a word of to old Helena; what either said must not be repeated to the Czar; and what the Czar told her must be kept from every one. So she had been so inured to lying that she had once brought her doctor to the verge of despair when, on his trying to find out her symptoms, her prevarications made a diagnosis next to impossible. How the poor child had rejoiced when at last she found two beings to whom she might really open her heart, her father and her friend!
"So you always tell every one all you know?" she asked Bethsaba.
"Oh no; although I do not understand the art of lying, if any one thinks to pump me, or to catch me unawares, I have my own way of being even with him. I begin to ask so many questions that he or she is only glad enough to leave me in peace."
At which they both laughed. The music of fresh young laughter was rarely heard in that cage.
CHAPTER XVII
BETHSABA
Princess Ghedimin had accorded her royal god-daughter permission to visit her friend, Sophie Narishkin, frequently. To one but partially acquainted with the Princess's secret heart, such intimacy was easily explained. As appearances forbade her personally from visiting the child, at least through Bethsaba she could obtain news of her health.
But to one in possession of the whole truth there was yet another cogent reason.
The Czar, that reserved, laconic man, who had secrets from his ministers, and did not even confess to the priests, was in the habit of telling this favorite daughter everything. When an ordinary father confides things to an idolized daughter they are matters of feeling; if that father be the Czar, what he confides are matters of state.
Every word the Czar utters to Sophie Narishkin must necessarily concern the condition of the country. Alexander I.'s words form the basis of Europe's present and future relations. The softening or hardening of his heart betokens peace or war. In that heart of his rest the mysteries of great developments or upsettings of nations.