In their landau or sledge, drawn by horses the choice of Podoi, mother and daughter looked quite distinguished. It was plain to everybody that the widow of Count Barineff was trying to marry her daughter well. The ambition was so natural and worthy of respect that no one thought of criticising it unfavorably. Still less were they disposed to make ill-natured reflections upon the doubtful descent of pretty Lise Barineff.
Three years passed thus before the young girl made her formal entry into society at a ball given by the officers of the Guards in Honor of the Grand Duke Constantine, and to celebrate his return from the Caucasus. This first appearance of Lise Barineff in the fashionable world was a complete triumph for her and her mother. We should add that it was a triumph too for General Podoi, on whose arm was Lise, whom he looked on almost as his own child.
The success was well deserved. Lise Barineff was in her eighteenth year. Fair, slender, and very distinguished-looking, she was remarkably beautiful too. The elegance of her figure, the perfect oval of her face, the curve of her lips, the classic shape of her brow—all were fitted to attract the aspirants whom the good fellow Podoi had dreamed about for her.
The most striking thing in the young girl from this day forward was the self-possession with which she received the homage paid to her. It was evident that her mother had trained her carefully for the admiration she was the object of, and that she was armed in advance against all surprises.
It could be seen in the calmness she preserved under the flattering murmurs which her appearance excited. Without confusion she moved through these salons where she now set foot for the first time. Her beautiful, greenish eyes, with emerald-like reflections in their depths, were not lowered under the dazzling glitter of a world they had never before seen, but which, doubtless, had been carefully painted for her in advance.
This indifference of hers was but an additional charm for those whom her beauty had at once inthralled. For a less enthusiastic spectator, it was a subject for curious study. A worthy child of the ex-actress of the Michael Theatre, was this débutante cleverly playing a rôle long learned and often repeated? Or was she really what she seemed to be?
Under this bosom already formed, chastely veiled with muslin, would not an ardent heart soon be beating? What ambitious or passionate thoughts were slumbering under those delicately penciled eyebrows, in color darker than her hair, and joined by an almost imperceptible down above the nose with its sensitive nostrils? How warm was the blood that circulated under this creamy skin, which was that of a brunette rather than a blonde? Taken back smoothly from the brow and temples, her luxuriant hair was rebellious where it was gathered at the nape of the neck, its golden wealth impatient of restraint. "Diana," murmured the admirers of Lise Barineff. "Merely Psyche awaiting Cupid," a skeptical physiologist would have replied.
Within less than a month from this first victoriously surmounted trial, the countess opened her house to suitors for her daughter's hand. They soon appeared in a crowd, for it was quickly known that Lise Barineff was not only a very beautiful girl, but also an excellent musician, well-cultivated, witty, and speaking with purity three or four languages.
One of the suitors favored by General Podoi—suitors whose homage Lise had received with very natural satisfaction to her vanity, without appearing to distinguish any of them—was soon favorably marked by the countess. He was Prince Pierre Olsdorf, a rich landed proprietor of Courland, and, moreover, a charming man of scarcely thirty, without any post about the court.
When the prince, who seemed much captivated, solicited the hand of her daughter from the countess, Mme. Barineff at first consulted General Podoi. As the general, eager to see Lise married, had nothing but very flattering things to say of Prince Olsdorf, she whom the matter most interested was told of the choice that had been made for her.