fascinating would express her more correctly than beautiful. When she laughs she is irresistible. I fell in love with her that first evening, and could do nothing but sit and look at her.
In the morning Grace and I insisted upon taking a drive in one of the peculiar sledges which are always standing about the hotel entrance. The sleigh, like all Russian sleighs, was very low,—the seat nearly on the ground, and extremely narrow, so that when a lady and gentleman drive together the latter is expected to put his arm round his companion to keep her from falling out. The driver is crowded into a tiny seat in front, and one of his feet, enveloped in a long white felt boot, swings gracefully outside, whether to serve as a brake, or because there is not room for it inside, I have been unable to discover. These drivers all have the traditional long beard and hair. They wear dark-blue coats, plaited into the waist, lined with sheepskin, and buttoned up on one side. Besides the sheepskin lining, many of the pelisses are wadded; this gives, even to the thinnest of the wearers, a rotund appearance. They also wear large round caps, pulled down on the back of their neck, covering the ears, and trimmed with bands of fur. The light felt boots, of which I have spoken, complete the costume of the istvostchik.
The morning was crisp and cold, and the sunlight rather pale. We crowded behind our fat old istvostchik, and were fastened in by the robe, which was buckled to the back of the seat. The seats have no sides; and, while the obliging hotel porter was buckling us in, and
