An Imperial Lover by Mary Imlay Taylor

MENTCHIKOF was standing in the center of the great _salon_ when I entered, and I was, at the moment, impressed by the conspicuous figure, and afterwards mentally contrasted it with that other his master. Peter's favorite was one of those handsome men who attach great importance to their dress; and this morning he was arrayed for the court and was a gorgeous picture, from his white silk stockings and white satin breeches and lace-trimmed brocaded waistcoat to his coat of violet velvet. Peter had created several orders, and half a dozen glittered on Mentchikof's breast, with the blue ribbon of Saint Andrew. His full white peruke was curled and perfumed, and his hands covered with splendid rings; he was the perfect picture of a courtier, and his naturally charming manners fitted him for the place that he held, and was to hold in the future, as the personal representative of the czar; although the spoiled favorite of fortune, he was also keen, brilliant, profoundly ambitious. If the scandalous rumors of the court were true, and he was indeed the son of a pastry-cook, he had reason to be proud of the singular ability which had enabled him to reach the pinnacle of success. He met me with cordiality, embracing me three times, in the Russian fashion.

"So far all goes well, M. le Maréchal," he said, smiling; "the bird has safely flown, and I believe will evade pursuit, although old Madame Zotof and her corpulent spouse are upon the track, but happily upon the wrong track. As for his Majesty, you and I will presently have a bad quarter of an hour, but I think Najine's appeal for M. de Lambert mortified the imperial vanity so much that he is likely to restrain his ardor."