Count Esterhazy, on returning from
Czarskoiesielo, where the Empress was living, came to tell me that Her
Majesty would receive me the next day at one o'clock. Such a quick
presentation, which I had not hoped for, put me into a very awkward
position. I had nothing but very plain muslin dresses, as I usually
wore no others, and it was impossible to have an ornamental gown made
from one day to the next, even at St. Petersburg. Count Esterhazy had
said he would call for me at ten o'clock precisely and take me to
breakfast with his wife, who also lived at Czarskoiesielo, so that
when the appointed hour struck I started with serious apprehensions
about my dress, which certainly was no court dress. On arriving at
Mme. d'Esterhazy's, I, in fact, took note of her amazement. Her
obliging civility did not prevent her from asking me, "Have you not
brought another gown?" I turned crimson at her question, and explained
how time had been wanting to have a more suitable gown made. Her
displeased looks increased my anxiety to such a degree that I needed
to summon up all my courage when the moment came to go before the
Empress.

The Count gave me his arm, and we were walking across a portion of the
park, when, at a ground-floor window, I espied a young person who was
watering a pot of pansies. She was seventeen years old at most; her
features were well formed and regular, her face a perfect oval; her
fine complexion was not bright, but was of a paleness completely in
harmony with the expression of her countenance, whose sweetness was
angelic. Her fair hair floated over her neck and forehead. She was
clad in a white tunic, a carelessly knotted girdle surrounding a waist
as slender and supple as a nymph's. As I have described her, so
ravishingly did this young person stand out against the background of
her apartment, adorned with pillars and draped in pink and silver
gauze, that I exclaimed, "That is Psyche!" It was Princess Elisabeth,
the wife of Alexander. She addressed me, and kept me long enough to
tell me a thousand flattering things. She then added, "We have wanted
you here for a long time, Mme. Lebrun--so much so that I have
sometimes dreamed you had already come." I parted from her with
regret, and have always preserved a memory of that charming vision.

A few minutes later I was alone with the autocrat of all the Russias.
The Ambassador had told me I must kiss her hand, in accordance with
which custom she drew off one of her g