It was twenty-four hours later. The night of the Ardácheff ball had

come. The glorious house made the background of a festive scene. The

company waited all round the galleries for the arrival of the Grand

Dukes and the foreign King and Queen.

And Tamara stood by her godmother's side at the top of the stairs, a

strange excitement flooding her veins.

Since the night before they had heard nothing of the Prince. And as

each guest came in view, past the splendid footmen grouped like statues

on every six steps, both women watched with quickening pulses for one

insouciant Cossack face.

The Royalties arrived in a gorgeous train, and yet neither Gritzko nor

Count Varishkine.

It might mean nothing, but it was curious all the same. The opening

contre-danse was in full swing, and still they never came, and

by the time of the second valse after it Tamara was a prey to a vague

fear. While the Princess' uneasiness grew more than vague.

Tamara could not enjoy herself. She talked at random, she made her

partners continually promenade through the salons, and her eyes

constantly scanned the doors.

The immense ballroom, quite two stories high, presented a brilliant

sight with its stately decorations of the time of Alexander I. And all

the magnificent jewels and uniforms, and the flowers. Somehow a riot of

roses takes an extra charm when outside the thermometer measures zero.

And no one would have believed, looking at this dignified throng, that

they could be the same people who could frolic wildly at a Bohemian

supper.

There is a great deal in breeding, after all, and the knowledge of the

fitness of things which follows in its train.

Tamara was valsing with Jack Courtray, and they stopped to look at the

world.

"Are they not a wonderful people, Jack? Could anything be more decorous

and dignified than they are tonight? And yet if you watch, in the

contre-danse their eyes have the same excited look as when we

wildly capered after supper in Prince Milaslávski's house."

"Which reminds me--why is he not here?" asked Jack.

"I wish I knew," Tamara said. "Jack, be a dear and go and forage about

and get hold of Serge Grekoff, if you can see him, or Mr. Strong, or

Sasha Basmanoff, or some one who might know--but it seems as if none of

them are here."

"As interested as that?" and Lord Courtray laughed. "Well, my child,

I'll do my best," so he relinquished her for the next turn and left her

with Valonne, who had just arrived.




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