I don't think you will have any trouble there. We have not only imperial courtesy to deal with, but kind hearts and true."
"Hearts that often bleed beneath their purple trappings," Ivan answered. "The Empress Elizabeth does not appear at this ball: she is mourning to-night for the death of a little girl whom she had adopted, and to whom she was tenderly attached. 'Every one dies in whom I take an interest,' she says. Perhaps her own frail health makes her look the more sorrowfully upon all things. Pray for her, Clémence."
"Indeed I will. How the happy ought to pray for those on whom life's shadows seem to fall! We have all sunshine, Ivan."
But even then a shadow was falling over their happy home. The little Rosebud, so lovingly watched and tended, was fading quickly. When Ivan returned that night from the Winter Palace, with its splendour, its lights, its music, his own dwelling was hushed and still. The Master had come for their treasure. Unmurmuringly, though with tearful eyes and aching hearts, they gave it into his keeping. They might have said, had they known the words,—
"God took thee in his arms, a lamb untasked, untried;
He fought the right for thee, he won the victory,
And thou art sanctified."
