The Warning

The 4th of December, the day of the court-ball, to which Elizabeth had
looked forward with a longing heart because of her anxiety to display
at court her new Parisian dresses, at length had come. A most active
movement prevailed in the palace of the regent. The lord-marshal and
the chamberlains on service passed up and down through the rooms,
overlooking with sharp eyes the various ornaments, festoons, garlands,
and draperies, to make sure that all was splendid, and tasteful, and
magnificent.

Anna Leopoldowna troubled herself very little about these busy movements
in her palace. She was in her boudoir, delightedly reading a letter from
her distant lover, which had just been received under Julia's address.
She had already read this letter several times, but ever recommenced
it, and ever found some new word, some new phrase that proved to her the
glowing love of her absent friend.

"Ah, he still loves me," murmured she, pressing the letter to her lips;
"he really loves me, and this short separation will not estrange his
heart, but cause it to glow with warmer passion! Oh, what a happiness
will it be when he again returns! And he will return! Yes, he will be
with me again on the 18th of December, and, animated by his glances,
I shall for the first time appear in all the splendor of an imperial
crown. Ah, they have no presentiment, my councillors and ministers, that
I have selected the 18th of December for the ceremony precisely because
it is the birthday of my beloved! He will know it, he will understand
why his Anna has chosen this particular day, and he will thank me
with one of those proud and glowing glances which always made my heart
tremulous with overpowering happiness. Oh, my Lynar, what a blessed
moment will be that when I see you again!"