fidelity.

My father could only bow his head. "Go," he said. "I do not wish to cast
any obstacles between you and your happiness. May God grant you an
honest man, and not a convicted traitor, for husband."

To my mother alone Marya confided her plans, and then, with her maid
Palashka and the faithful Savélütch--who, parted from me, consoled
himself by remembering he was serving my betrothed--set out for the
capital.

Arrived at Sofia, Marya learnt that the court was at the summer palace
of Tzarskoe-Selo, and at once resolved to stop there. She was able to
get a lodging at the post-house, and the postmaster's wife, who was a
regular gossip, began to tell her all the routine of the palace, at what
hour the tzarina rose, had her coffee, and walked in the gardens.

Next morning, very early, Marya dressed herself and went to the imperial
gardens. She saw a lady seated on a little rustic bench near the large
lake, and went and seated herself at the other end of the bench. The
lady wore a cap and a white morning gown, and a light cloak. She
appeared to be about fifty years old, and the repose and gravity of her
face, and the sweetness of her blue eyes and her smile, all attracted
Marya and inspired confidence. The lady was the first to speak.

"You do not belong to this place?"

"No, madame. I only arrived yesterday from the country."

"You came with your parents?"