His Hour

The night of the bear-hunter's return there was to be a small dinner at

the Ardácheff house. The Princess had arranged that there should be a

party of six; so that while the four played bridge the fiancés might

talk to one another. She was growing almost nervous, and indeed it had

required all Stephen Strong's assurance that things eventually would

come right to prevent her from being actually unhappy.

"Let 'em alone!" the old man said. "Take no notice! you won't regret

it."

Tamara had only got up from her bed that afternoon and was very pale

and feeble. She wore a white clinging dress and seemed a mere slip of a

girl. The great string of beautiful pearls, Gritzko's latest gift,

which had arrived that morning, was round her neck, and her sweet eyes

glanced up sadly from the blue shadows which encircled them.

Gritzko was already there when the Princess and Tamara reached the

first salon, and his eyes swam with passionate concern when he saw how

Tamara had been suffering. He could not restrain the feeling in his

voice as he exclaimed: "You have been ill!--my sweet lady! Oh! Tantine, why did you not send

for me? How could you let her suffer?"

And a sudden wave of happiness came over Tamara when he kissed her

hand. She was so weak the least thing could have made her cry.

But her happiness was short-lived, for Gritzko--afraid yet of showing

what was in his heart--seemed now colder than ever; though he was

exulting within himself at the thought that the moment would come soon

when all this pretence should end.

Tamara, knowing nothing of these things, felt a new sinking depression.

In five days she would be his wife, and then when he had paid the

honorable price--how would he treat her?-He was looking wildly attractive tonight, his voice had a thousand

tones in it when he addressed the others, he was merry and witty and

gay--and almost made love to the Princess--only to his fiancée did he

seem reserved.

The food appeared impossible to swallow. She almost felt at last as

though she were going to faint. The hopeless anguish of the situation

weighed upon her more than ever; for alas! she felt she loved him now

beyond any pride, every barrier was broken down. She had no more anger

or resentment for the night at the hut. All his many sins were forgiven.

Dinner was an impossible penance, and with a feverish excitement she

waited for the time when they should be alone.