"Oh," said she, while pacing her boudoir in a state of violent
excitement, "I shall know how to punish this presumptuous woman!
Ha, does she not give herself the appearance of not remarking that I
constantly have for her a clouded brow and an unfriendly greeting? How!
will she not take the pains to see that her empress looks upon her with
disfavor? But she shall see and feel that I hate, that I abhor her. Oh,
what a powerless creature is yet an empress! I hate this woman, and she
has the impudence to think I cannot punish her unless she is guilty."
And weeping aloud, Elizabeth threw herself upon the divan. A low knock
at the door recalled her attention from her angry grief. Rising, she
bade the person at the door to enter.
It was Lestocq, the privy councillor and president--Lestocq, the
confidant of the empress, who came with a joyful face and cheerful
smile.
Elizabeth felt annoyed by this cheerfulness of her physician. With an
angry frown she turned her back upon him.
"Why were you not at the court ball last evening?" she then roughly
said.
"I was there," answered Lestocq.
"Ah, that is not true," cried the empress with vehemence, glad at least
to have some one on whom she could discharge her anger.
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