all his mercies, and praying him to keep me, and those a thousand times dearer than myself, in the hollow of his hand. Good-night,—my Clémence, my queen, good-night!"
"I take my pen in haste to add a few lines which will change everything for thee and me, Clémence. No, not change, only clear away our perplexities, and make the crooked places straight before us. My last night's vigil made me rather a late sleeper this morning, and I woke to find my servant standing by my side, with a large packet in his hand bearing the Imperial seal. You may be sure I lost no time in opening it. Two separate parchments fell out—one the patent renewing in my favour my father's title of 'Prince' Pojarsky, the other the title-deeds of his estate, Nicolofsky.[1]
"I cannot to-day write commonplace words about this; you will read between the lines, and share the emotions that fill my heart. Surely God has dealt well with me—infinitely better than I deserve. It only remains now for estate, title, and all else that I have and am, to be laid at your feet by your happy, grateful, and devoted Ivan."
- ↑ A similar act of imperial munificence, performed in a similar way, drew the comment from De Maistre: "En fait d'élégance souveraine, l'Empereur de Russie est un grand artiste."
