epigrammatic way.

Catrina--a second Eve--glanced at him, and her silence gave him
permission to go on.

"Some men have a different code of honor for women, who are helpless."

Catrina knew vaguely that unless a woman is beloved by the object of her
displeasure, she cannot easily make him suffer.

She clenched her teeth over her lower lip. As she played, a new light
was dawning in her eyes. The music was a marvel, but no one in the room
heard it.

"I would be pitiless to all such men," said De Chauxville. "They deserve
no pity, for they have shown none. The man who deceives a woman is
worthy of--"

He never finished the sentence. Her deep, passionate eyes met his. Her
hands came down with one final crash on the chords. She rose and crossed
the room.

"Mother," she said, "shall I ring for tea?"

When the countess awoke, De Chauxville was turning over some sheets of
music at the piano.

CHAPTER XXIII

A WINTER SCENE

Between Petersburg and the sea there are several favorite islands more
or less assigned to the foreigners residing in the Russian capital. Here
the English live, and in summer the familiar cries of the tennis-lawn
may be heard, while in winter snow-shoeing, skating, and tobogganing
hold merry sway.

It was here, namely, on the island of Christeffsky, that a great ice
fete was held on the day preceding the departure of the Howard Alexis
household for Tver. The fete was given by one of the foreign
ambassadors--a gentleman whose wife was accredited to the first place
in Petersburg society. It was absolutely necessary, Steinmetz averred,
for the whole Howard Alexis party to put in an appearance.

The fete was supposed to begin at four in the afternoon, and by five
o'clock all St. Petersburg--all, c'est a dire, worthy of mention in that
aristocratic city--had arrived. One may be sure Claude de Chauxville
arrived early, in beautiful furs with a pair of silver-plated skates
under his arm. He was an influential member of the Cercle des Patineurs
in Paris. Steinmetz arrived soon after, to look on, as he told his many
friends. He was, he averred, too stout to skate and too heavy for the
little iron sleds on the ice-hills.

"No, no!" he said, "there is nothing left for me but to watch. I shall
watch De Chauxville," he added, turning to that graceful skater with a
grim smile. De Chauxville nodded and laughed.

"You have been doing that any time this twenty years, mon ami," he said,
as he stoo