that the large drawing-room is more than 150 feet in length and very lofty.
My aunt always lived with her three unmarried children, Paul and his two sisters, Marie and Aline; it has always been my habit to call them "uncle" and "aunt" on account of their being so much older than myself and I thought it more respectful to do so. The first two are entirely devoted to good works and before the war my uncle was absolutely absorbed by the Œuvre des Étudiants, an international business, and as this body held their annual meetings in different places each year he was continually travelling, and thought no more of starting off to America or Japan than he did of going to Petrograd.
My young Pahlen cousins, children of the married daughter of my aunt, came to stay. I nicknamed them "Les Moustiques" as, all day long, they clambered on to my knees and then smothered me with kisses! Their father, Count de Pahlen, was then Governor of Vilna—now, alas, fallen into the hands of the detestable Hun! They played the balalaika—a cross between the mandoline and the guitar—very well.
Uncle de Pahlen, although a somewhat pronounced Protestant, was large-minded enough to rescue the Roman Catholic Bishop of Vilna, by concealing him in the bottom of his equipage, from the hands of the revolutionaries the following winter. All the Nicolays are very low church, with the exception of Uncle Paul who
