His Hour

They were drinking coffee in the blue salon, and most of the party had

retired to the bridge tables laid out, and Tamara, who played too

badly, sat by the fire with her godmother and another lady, when

suddenly the door opened and, with an air of complete insouciance and

assurance, Prince Milaslávski came in.

"I want some coffee, Tantine," he said, kissing the Princess' hand,

while he nodded to everyone else. "I was passing and so came in to get

it."

"Gritzko--back again!" the whole company cried, and the Princess,

beaming upon him fond smiles, gave him the coffee, while she murmured

her glad welcome.

The society now began to chaff him as to his doings, which he took with

the utmost sang froid.

"That old cat of a Marianne Mariuski sets about as usual one of her

stories. I am having an orgie at Milasláv, and this time with a

seraglio of Egyptian houris--the truth being I only brought back by

the merest chance one small troupe of Alexandrian dancers, and two

performing bears. They made us laugh for three days, Serge, Sasha, and

the rest!"

"Gritzko, will you never learn wisdom," said one lady, the Princess

Shébanoff, plaintively, while the others all laughed. "Were they

pretty, and what were they like?" they asked.

"The bears?--little angels, especially Fatima,--and with the manners of

Princesses," and he bowed to an old lady who was surveying him severely

through her pince-nez, while she held her cards awry. "Which reminds me

we are failing in ours, Tantine, you have not presented me to the

English lady, who is, I perceive, a stranger."

During all this Tamara had sat cold and silent. She was angry with

herself that this man's entrance should cause her such emotion--or

rather commotion and sensation. Why should he make her feel nervous and

stupid, unsure of herself, and uncertain what to do. Invariably he

placed her at some disadvantage, and left the settling of their

relations to himself. Whereas all such regulations ought to have been

in her hands. Now she was without choice again, she could only bow

stiffly as her godmother said his name and her name, and Prince

Milaslávski took a chair by her side and began making politenesses as

though he were really a stranger.

Had she just arrived? Did she find Russia very cold? Was she going to

stay long? etc., etc.

To all of which Tamara answered in monosyllables, while two bright

spots of rose color burned in her cheeks.