Chapter Twenty.
Undercurrents of Diplomacy.
A few nights later we went together to a ball at the Russian Embassy. Perhaps of all the functions in London a ball at Chesham House is one of the most brilliant and imposing, for it is always on a scale in keeping with the dignity of the representative of the Tzar.
The spacious state rooms with their great crystal chandeliers and heavy gilding, were filled to overflowing with pretty women and men in uniform of hues as varied as those of the ladies’ dresses, from the black coat of the United States Minister to the bright yellow jacket of the Emperor of China’s representative. All the diplomatic body were present, as well as many personages well-known in English society. At the head of the grand staircase Monsieur Grodekoff, the Russian Ambassador, a striking figure in his spotless white uniform, his breast glittering with orders set in brilliants, including the much-coveted ribbon of St Andrew, stood with his daughter receiving their guests, and as we advanced the courtly, white-haired old gentleman, whom I had met on many occasions in my official capacity, shook me heartily by the hand and congratulated us upon our marriage.
“I heard, Deedes, of your good fortune,” he said, after greeting Ella. “I trust that you and your wife will have long life and every happiness.”
“Thanks, your Excellency,” I answered, smiling contentedly. “There is no doubt, I think, concerning our happiness.”
“You should take madame to St Petersburg,” the aged diplomatist laughed. “She would enjoy it, especially with you, who know our country.”
“I hope to go very soon,” Ella said. “I have heard so much about it, and am longing to see it.”