His Hour

He turned to Tamara at once.

"They are a queer people who dwell in a clan. They sing like the

fiend--one hates it or loves it, but it gets on the nerves, and if a

man should fancy one of them, he must pay the chief, not the girl. Then

they are faithful and money won't tempt them away. But if the man makes

them jealous, they run a knife into his back."

"It sounds exciting at all events," Tamara said.

"It is an acquired taste, and if you have a particularly sensitive ear

the music will make you feel inclined to scream. It drives me mad."

"Gritzko," the Princess whispered to him. "You promise to be sage,

dear boy, do you not? Sometimes you alarm me when you go too far."

"Tantine!" and he kissed her hand. "Your words are law!"

"Alas! if that were only true," she said with a sigh.

"Tonight all shall be suited to the eleven thousand virgins!" and he

laughed. "Or shall I say suited to an English grande dame--which is

the same!"

They had crossed the Neva by now, and presently arrived at a building

with a gloomy looking door, and so to a dingy hall, in which a few

waiters were scurrying about. They seemed to go through endless shabby

passages, like those of a lunatic asylum, and finally arrived at a

large and empty room--empty so far as people were concerned--for at the

end there were sofas and a long narrow table, and a few smaller ones

with chairs.

The tables were already laid, with dishes of raw ham and salted almonds

and various bonnes bouches, while brilliant candelabra shone amidst

numerous bottles of champagne.

The company seemed to have forgotten the gloom that playing bridge had

brought over them, and were as gay again as one could wish, while

divesting themselves of their furs and snow-boots.

And soon Tamara found herself seated on the middle sofa behind the long

table, Count Gléboff on her right, and the French Secretary, Count

Valonne, at her left, while beyond him was Princess Sonia, and near by

all the rest.

Their host stood up in front, a brimming glass in his hand.

Then there filed in about twenty-five of the most unattractive

animal-looking females, dressed in ordinary hideous clothes, who all

took their seats on a row of chairs at the farther end. They wore no

national costume nor anything to attract the eye, but were simply

garbed as concierges or shop-girls might have been; and some were old,

gray-haired women, and one had even a swollen face tied up in a black

scarf! How could it be possible that any of these could be the "fancy"

of a man!