XVII -- THE PRINCESS KORNAKOFF

"Yes, show her in," said Grandmamma, settling herself as far back in
her arm-chair as possible. The Princess was a woman of about
forty-five, small and delicate, with a shrivelled skin and disagreeable,
greyish-green eyes, the expression of which contradicted the unnaturally
suave look of the rest of her face. Underneath her velvet bonnet,
adorned with an ostrich feather, was visible some reddish hair, while
against the unhealthy colour of her skin her eyebrows and eyelashes
looked even lighter and redder that they would other wise have done.
Yet, for all that, her animated movements, small hands, and peculiarly
dry features communicated something aristocratic and energetic to her
general appearance. She talked a great deal, and, to judge from her
eloquence, belonged to that class of persons who always speak as though
some one were contradicting them, even though no one else may be saying
a word. First she would raise her voice, then lower it and then take on
a fresh access of vivacity as she looked at the persons present, but not
participating in the conversation, with an air of endeavouring to draw
them into it.

Although the Princess kissed Grandmamma's hand and repeatedly called her
"my good Aunt," I could see that Grandmamma did not care much about her,
for she kept raising her eyebrows in a peculiar way while listening
to the Princess's excuses why Prince Michael had been prevented from
calling, and congratulating Grandmamma "as he would like so-much to
have done." At length, however, she answered the Princess's French with