His Hour

Then, as Tamara did not move, he put out his hand and helped her up.

She shuddered when he touched her, and her tears burst out afresh.

Where was all her pride gone--it lay trampled in the dust.

"You are tired and hungry, Madame," he said, "and here is a looking-glass

and a comb and brush," and he opened a door of the tall cupboard

which filled the corner opposite the stove, and took the things out for

her. "Perhaps you might like to arrange yourself while I bring you some

food."

"How can I face the others,--with this blouse!" she exclaimed

miserably, and then her cheeks crimsoned again, and she looked down.

He did not make any explanation of how it had got torn--the moment was

a wonderful one between them.

Over Tamara crept some strange emotion, and he walked to the door

quickly to prevent himself from clasping her in his arms, and kissing

away her fears.

When she was alone the cunning of all Eve's daughters filled her. Above

all things she must now use her ingenuity to efface these startling

proofs. She darted to the cupboard and searched among the things there,

and eventually found a rough housewife, and chose out a needle and

coarse thread. It was better than nothing, so she hurriedly drew off

the blouse, then she saw her torn underthings--and another convulsive

pang went through her--but she set to work. She knew that however she

might make even the blouse look to the casual eyes of her godmother,

she could never deceive her maid. Then the thought came that

fortunately Johnson was in Petersburg, and all these things could be

left behind at Moscow. Yes, no one need ever know.

With feverish haste she cobbled up the holes, glancing nervously every

few moments to the door in case Gritzko should come in. Then she put

the garment on again--refastened her brooch and brushed and recoiled

her hair. What she saw in the small looking-glass helped to restore her

nerve. Except that her eyes were red, and she was very pale, she was

tidy and properly clothed.

She sat down by the table and tried to think. These outside things

could still look right, but nothing could restore her untarnished

pride.

How could she ever take her blameless place in the world again.

Once more it hurt Gritzko terribly to see the woebegone, humbled,

hopeless look on her face as he came in and put some food on the table.

He cut up some tempting bits and put them on her plate, while he told

her she must eat--and she obeyed mechanically. Then he poured out a

tumbler of champagne and made her drink it down. It revived her, and

she said she was ready to start. But as she stood he noticed that all

her proud carriage of head was gone.