"Yes, I can play," she had said, when she was asked, "but it bores me
so, and I do it so badly; may I not watch you instead?"
The lady who made the third had not these ideas, and she sat down near
a table ready to cut in. Thus the host and his English guest were left
practically alone.
"I did not mean you to play," he said, "I knew you couldn't--I arranged
it like this."
"Why did you know I couldn't?" Tamara asked. "I am too stupid perhaps
you think!"
"Yes--too stupid and--too sweet."
"I am neither stupid--nor sweet!" and her eyes flashed.
"Probably not, but you seem so to me.--Now don't get angry at once, it
makes our acquaintance so fatiguing, I have each time to be presented
over again."
Then Tamara laughed.
"It really is all very funny," she said.
"And how is the estimable Mrs. Hardcastle?" he asked, when he had
laughed too--his joyous laugh. "This is a safe subject and we can sit
on the fender without your wanting to push me into the fire over it."
"I am not at all sure of that," answered Tamara. She could not resist
his charm, she could not continue quarrelling with him; somehow it
seemed too difficult here in his own house, so she smiled as she went
on. "If you laugh at my Millicent, I shall get very angry indeed."
"Laugh at your Millicent! The idea is miles from my brain--did not I
tell you when I could find a wife like that I would marry--what more
can I say!" and the Prince looked at her with supreme gravity. "Did she
tell 'Henry' that a devil of a Russian bear had got drunk and flung a
gipsy into the sea?"
"Possibly. Why were you so--horrible that night?"
"Was I horrible?"
"Probably not, but you seemed so to me," Tamara quoted his late words.
"I seem horrible--and you seem sweet."
"Surely the stupid comes in too!"
"Undoubtedly, but Russia will cure that, you will not go away for a
long time."
"In less than four weeks."
"We shall see," and the Prince got up and lit another cigarette. "You
do not smoke either? What a little good prude!"
"I am not a prude!" Tamara's ire rose again. "I have tried often with
my brother Tom, and it always makes me sick. I would be a fool, not a
prude, to go on, would not I?"