Free The Ice King by Dinah Dean Page A

the far end of Admiralty Square?”
    Rossi turned to a fresh page and began to sketch again, showing her how he intended to set there a pair of buildings for the Senate and the Holy Synod, to form a comprehensive whole with St. Isaac's Cathedral, now in the process of being rebuilt to Montferrand's design. "One day," he said, smiling happily at Tanya's enthusiastic response, "all in time. I'm still young enough to hope to see it all come about.”
     
     



CHAPTER
FOUR
    TANYA and M. Rossi were engrossed in their conversation for nearly an hour, and only stopped talking when a footman came to summon the architect to the Imperial Presence. Tanya bade him farewell with regret, but turned to the others with a happy smile curving her unfashionably wide mouth.
    “Oh, I did enjoy that!" she exclaimed. "Only fancy! Sitting in the Winter Palace, talking to a real architect!"
    “Only you're in the Hermitage, not the Winter Palace," Fedor pointed out.
    “You can hardly expect her to realise that," Prince Nikolai said rather sharply. "I've no doubt she doesn't know where she is at the moment, for most people require a map to find their way about for the first few years they spend here, at least. I suggest that you guide us back to the Palace Square entrance, Fedor, as you know your way about so well!”
    The slight asperity in his tone at the beginning of this speech had softened by the end of it and the last part was almost jocular. Fedor admitted that he knew only roughly where he was, by the garden outside the windows, and had not the faintest idea which way to turn to reach Palace Square, so Prince Nikolai said that he would endeavour to show them the right route.
    As they walked through the still-crowded Palace, Tanya thanked Prince Nikolai for allowing her the opportunity to meet Karl Rossi. "It was most thoughtful of you, and k . . . and, and, er . . . thoughtful . . ." She made a helpless little gesture with her hands, and caught that faint gleam of amusement again in Prince Nikolai's eyes as he offered, "Considerate?"
    “Thank you. Considerate."
    “I had a momentary doubt that you might reply 'Who?' when I presented him, followed by 'I've never heard of him!' but my faith in your well-informed memory was not betrayed," Prince Nikolai observed. "You must come here again, when the place is less crowded, and see how his 1812 Gallery is coming along."
    “Is that where all the portraits are to be hung?" Tanya asked, summoning up a faint memory of something she had read.
    “Yes. All the Generals who commanded against Bonaparte in 1812. More than three hundred portraits. An Englishman called Dawes is painting most of them, and very good they are too."
    “I should like very much to see them, as well as the Gallery," Tanya said. "My Great-Uncle knew many of them, and often talked of them. It would be interesting to see what they looked like."
    “There's one now," Prince Nikolai nodded towards a tall, dark-haired man with a large beaky nose and a healthy, ruddy complexion, dressed in military uniform. "General Miloradovich. He's a friend of Vladimir Sergeivich, for Vladimir won his St. George saving the General's life."
    “Oh? Do tell — what happened?”
    Prince Nikolai gave her a sombre look and replied, "You must ask Vladimir to tell you himself. He might do so, if he thought you really wished to know."
    “I doubt it," Tanya replied. "The dear man is much too shy!" She turned her head to look at a particularly beautiful picture they were passing, and failed to see a rather odd expression of something like bewilderment which crossed Prince Nikolai's face, as if he had received an unexpected jab.
    “M. Rossi reminded me of someone," Tanya remarked thoughtfully, "But I can't think who it was. I have a vague impression of an engraving of a portrait, rather than someone I've actually seen . . ."
    “Paul the First," Prince Nikolai said drily.
    “Why, yes! How did you guess?"
    “There's quite a strong resemblance, whereas