They all laughed; and we lingered for a long time, being among the last to leave the hall. We stared in our most well-bred manner at Chung How, the Chinese ambassador, and some of his suite. He is a mandarin of the highest rank, "Wearer of the Diamond Button," etc., etc., etc. He was dressed in a yellow satin gown over a blue one, and had a large emerald ring on his thumb.
At last we had to depart. While my overshoes were being put on for me by one servant, and my cloak thrown about me by another (I never wait on myself in Russia), Mr. Cheremenieff asked me if I intended to go to a rout at one of the embassies the next evening.
"Rout?" I repeated, opening my eyes very wide, and nearly losing my equilibrium, as Vasili worked on my overshoe. "Do ladies go?"
George laughed. "I can imagine the visions of Bohemians, dancing-girls, and wild orgies which are flying through your head at that word. You will be disappointed when you learn that a rout is only a mild reception, with no dancing, and very little to eat."
"Then I shall not go, Mr. Cheremenieff" (twisting my bashlik about my head, and mechanically allowing George to tie it behind for me). "I don't think I am invited; and I don't care for any more parties till I have had one day's rest. Good-night."
I came home quite pleased with myself for having discovered that Mr. Cheremenieff was in love with me, and for having made him understand in such a delicate way that I could not return his affection. It seems to me
