His Hour

Tamara felt extremely moved. A passionate wild regret swept over her.

Oh! why might not fate let him love her really, so that they could be

happy. How she would adore to soothe him, and be tender and gentle and

obedient, and bring him peace!

But just at that moment, with an air of exasperating insouciant

insolence, he came into the room and began chaffing with Valonne, and

turning to her said something which set her wounded pride again all

aflame, and burning with impotence and indignation she, as the strange

guest, put her hand on his arm to go in to dinner.

Zacouska was partaken of, and then the serious repast began. Every one

was in the highest spirits. Countess Olga and Lord Courtray looked as

though they were getting on with giant strides. Jack had got to the

whispering stage, which Tamara knew to be a serious one with him. The

whole party became worked up to a point of extra gaiety. On her other

hand sat Sonia's husband, Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin. But Gritzko

sparkled with brilliancy and seemed to lead the entire table.

There was something so extremely attractive about him in his character

of host that Tamara felt she dared hardly look at him or she could not

possibly keep up this cold reserve if she did!

So she turned and talked, and apparently listened, with scarcely a

pause to her right-hand neighbor's endless dissertations upon Moscow,

and while she answered interestedly, her thoughts grew more and more

full of rebellion and unrest.

It was as if a needle had an independent will, and yet was being drawn

by a magnet against itself. She had to use every bit of her force to

keep her head turned to Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin, and when Gritzko

did address her, only to answer him in monosyllables, stiffly, but

politely, as a stranger guest should.

By the end of dinner he was again wild with rage and exasperation.

When they got back to the great saloon, they found the end of it had

been cleared and a semicircle of chairs arranged for them to sit in and

watch some performance. It proved to be a troupe of Russian dancers and

some Cossacks who made a remarkable display with swords, while

musicians, in their national dress, accompanied the performance.

Tamara and Lord Courtray had seen this same sort of dancing in London

when Russian troupes gave their "turns," but never executed with such

wonderful fire and passion as this they witnessed now. The feats were

quite extraordinary, and one or two of the women were attractive-looking

creatures.

Gritzko's attitude toward them was that of the benevolent master to

highly trained valued hounds. Indeed this feeling seemed to be mutual,

the hounds adoring their master with blind devotion, as all his

belongings did.