His Hour

Here the really beautiful, though rather florid Alexander I. style

struggled from the walls with an appalling set of furniture of the

period of Alexander II. But the whole thing had an odd unfinished look,

and a fine portrait of the Prince's grandfather in one panel was

entirely riddled with shot!

Some splendid skins of bears and wolves were on the floor, and there

was a general air of the room being lived in--though magnificence and

dilapidation mingled everywhere. The very rich brocade on one of the

sofas had the traces of great rents. And while one table held cigarette

cases and cigar boxes in the most exquisitely fine enamel set with

jewels, on another would be things of the roughest wood. And a cabinet

at the side filled with a priceless collection of snuff boxes and

bon-bonnières of Catherine's time had the glass of one door

cracked into a star of splinters.

Tamara had a sudden sensation of being a million miles away from

England and her family: it all came as a breath of some other life. She

felt strangely nervous, she had not the least notion why. There was a

reckless look about things which caused a weird thrill.

"If it were only arranged, what capabilities it all has," she thought;

"but as it is, it seems to speak of Gritzko and fierce strife."

Tea and the usual quantities of bonnes bouches and vodka waited

them and a bowl of hot punch.

And all three English people, Stephen Strong, Tamara and Jack, admired

their host's gracious welcome, and his courtly manners. Not a trace of

the wild Gritzko seemed left.

Tamara wondered secretly what their sleeping accommodation would be

like.

"Tantine, you must act hostess for me. Will you show these ladies their

rooms," the Prince said. "Dinner is at eight o'clock, but you have lots

of time before for a little bridge if you want."

He took them through the usual amount of reception-rooms--a

billiard-room and library, and small boudoir--and then they came out on

another staircase which led to the floor above. Here he left them and

returned to the men.

"This was done up by the late Princess, Tamara," her godmother said.

"Even twenty years ago the taste was perfectly awful, as you can see.

The whole house could be made beautiful if only there was someone who

cared--though I expect we shall be comfortable enough."

The top passage proved to be wide, but only distempered in two colors,

like the walls of a station waiting-room. Not the slightest attempt to

beautify or furnish with carved chairs, and cabinets of china, and

portraits and tapestry on the walls, as in an English house. In the

passage all was as plain as a barrack.