His Hour

"Apparently I shall have to go partnerless for the Mazurka," Tamara

carelessly said while she watched the Frenchman's face with the corner

of her eye. "I was engaged for it to Count Varishkine, and he has never

turned up. I do wonder what has happened to him. Do you know?"

"I told you you would be lucky if you got away from here without some

row of sorts, Madame," and Valonne smiled enigmatically.

"What do you mean? Please tell me?" and Tamara turned pale.

"I mean nothing; only I fancy you will only see one of them tonight;

which it will be is still on the cards."

A cold, sick feeling came over Tamara.

"You are not insinuating that they have been fighting?" she asked, with

a tremble in her voice which she could not control.

But Valonne reassured her.

"I am insinuating nothing," he said, with a calm smile. "Let us have

one more turn before this charming valse stops."

And, limp and nerveless, Tamara allowed herself to be whirled around

the room; nor could she get anything further out of Valonne.

When it was over she sought in vain for her godmother or Jack or

Stephen Strong. The Princess was engaged with the Royalties and could

not be approached, and neither of the men were to be seen.

The next half-hour was agony, in which, with a white face and fixed

smile, Tamara played her part, and then just before the Mazurka was

going to begin Gritzko came in.

It seemed as if her knees gave way under her for a moment, and she sat

down in a seat. The relief was so great. Whatever had happened he at

least was safe.

She watched him securing two chairs in the best place, and then he

crossed over to where she sat by the door to the refreshment room.

"Bon soir, Madame," he said. "Will you take me as a substitute for your

partner, Count Varishkine?" and he bowed with a courtly grace which

seemed suited to the scene. "He is, I regret to say, slightly

indisposed, and has asked me to crave your indulgence for him, and let

me fill his place."

For a moment Tamara hesitated; she seemed to have lost the power of

speech; she felt she must control her anxiety and curiosity, so at last

she answered gravely: "I am so very sorry! I hope it is nothing serious. He is so charming,

Count Varishkine."

"Nothing serious. Shall we take our places? I have two chairs there not

far from Olga and your friend," and the Prince prepared to lead the

way. Tamara, now that the tension was over, almost thought she would

refuse, but the great relief and joy she felt in his presence overcame

her pride, and she meekly followed him across the room.