Elizabeth had perceived that, with her eyes sharpened by jealousy; her
envy was yet more mighty than her vanity, and her envy told her Eleonore
Lapuschkin is handsomer than the Empress Elizabeth; wherever Eleonore
appears, there all hearts fly to meet her, all glances incline to her;
every one feels a sort of ecstasy of adoration whom she greets with a
word or a smile, for that word or that smile sanctifies him as it were,
and enrolls him among the noblest and best.
And even Alexis had been unable to withstand this magic! Oh, Elizabeth
narrowly watched him; she had analyzed his every word and every glance;
she had seen how he always pressed near her, how he blushed with joy
when she remarked his presence and returned his salutation! Yea, she,
and perhaps only she, had seen Alexis covertly possess himself of the
glove which Eleonore had lost the previous evening at the grand court
ball, had seen him press that glove to his lips and afterward conceal it
in his bosom.
As Elizabeth thought of these things her eyes filled with tears, and
her whole form shook with rage. She felt unable to be angry with or to
punish him, but she was resolved that Eleonore Lapuschkin should feel
the whole weight of her vengeance.
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