Lucy Harding by Mary Jane Holmes

From St. Petersburg we went to Italy for the rest of the winter; and April found us again in Paris, at our old quarters, the Bellevue. As soon as we were settled, we looked up Sophie Scholaskie, whom we found up three long flights of stairs, in a very pretty little apartment, where she lived alone, with a woman to come morning and night to see to her rooms. She was a very handsome young woman, and so much like Ivan that I did not wonder he could pass for her so easily. She was delighted to see us, especially Katy, in whom she seemed to feel she had a particular right of ownership, and whom she scrutinized very closely all the time we were with her, and kissed at parting, saying, "For Ivan's sake!"

She talked a great deal, but in a pleasant, ladylike way, asking many questions about her mother and Ivan. She had tried to keep him from going to St. Petersburg, she said, knowing how hot-headed he was when among his own friends. But nothing could deter him, and Siberia was the result. He had been there some time. Indeed, she believed he had started on his northern journey the day we left the city. He had been treated with a good deal of kindness, thanks to Michel Seguin, who had used his influence all along the line. Did we know Michel?