it quite the proper thing to be kissed by him; for had he not just seen him bestow a similar attention upon "Maman"?
Emile looked admiringly at the child's handsome face, as he seated him on his knee and gave him a bunch of seals to play with. "He is like his father," said he; "while his brother resembles you," he added, glancing at Feodor. "There is no mistaking those soft dark eyes with the long silken lashes. What is his name, ma cousine?"
"Feodor; in memory of the noble old man who was to his father as a father."
Just then a servant entered; and Clémence, finding that Emile had left his luggage at a hotel, had it sent for, and gave the other directions hospitality required. Meanwhile, Emile carried on a conversation with the little mujik on his knee; who, not in the least shy, put his hand on the breast of his coat, and then tried to unbutton it, saying, "Where is your star—the beautiful, shiny thing, all made of sparks of fire?"
"That must be a star of diamonds," laughed Emile. "Is that the sort of plaything you are accustomed to, my little prince?"
"That is what my godfather wears on his coat, and he gives it to me to play with when he comes here," said the little fellow, adding some unintelligible semi-Russian, which quite baffled Emile.
"He has the honour to be the Emperor's godson," Clémence explained.
"Then, my boy, you have a splendid godfather," said Emile.
"Et bon,"[1] the child added quickly.
At this moment the nurse appeared at the door. She was a stately personage in full Russian costume—a velvet "sarafan," or wide open robe, showing beneath it a close-fitting silken gown, its long sleeves clasped at the wrist with bands of gold, while
- ↑ This answer was really given by a child of his age, the little son of Madame de Choiseul-Gouffier.
