His Hour Part 18

And the Prince exerted himself to amuse and please his partner, and did not again clasp her too tight, only whenever she had turns with her countryman, his eyes would flame, and he would immediately interrupt them and carry her off.

Tamara felt perfectly happy, she was no longer a.n.a.lyzing and questioning, and she was no longer fighting against her inclination.

She abandoned herself to the rus.h.i.+ng stream of life.

It was about five o'clock when some one suggested supper at the Islands was now the proper thing. This was the delightful part about them--on no occasion was there ever a halt for the consideration of ways and means. They wanted some particular amus.e.m.e.nt and--had it! Convention, from an English point of view, remained an unknown quant.i.ty.--Now those who decided to continue the feasting all got into their waiting conveyances.

With the thermometer at fifteen degrees Reaumur, a coachman's life is not one altogether to be envied in Russia, but apparently custom will make anything endurable.

"I know you like the troika, Tamara," Princess Ardacheff said. "So you go with Olga and Gritzko and your friend--only be sure you wrap up your head."

And when they were all getting in, the Countess Gleboff said:

"It is so terribly cold tonight, Gritzko. I am going to sit with my back to the horses, so as not to get the wind in my face."

When they were tucked in under the furs this arrangement seemed to Jack Courtray one of real worth, for he instantly proceeded to take Countess Olga's hand, while he whispered that he was cold and she could not be so inhuman as to let a poor stranger freeze!

It seemed amusing to look from the windows of a private room, down upon a gay supping throng, in the general salle at the restaurant on the Islands, while Tziganes played and their supper was being prepared.

"Who could think it was five o'clock in the morning! What a lesson for our rotten old County Council in London," Jack Courtray said. "By Jove!

this is the place for me!" and he proceeded to make violent love to Olga Gleboff, to who's side he remained persistently glued.

And then the gayest repast began; nothing could have been more entertaining or full of wild _entrain_, and yet no one over-did it, or was vulgar or coa.r.s.e.

At the last moment, when they were all starting for home about seven o'clock, Countess Olga decided she could not face the cold of the open sleigh, and Lord Courtray and she got into her motor instead.

It was done so quickly, Tamara was already packed into the troika, and the outside steeds were prancing in their desire to be off.

"The horses won't stand," the Prince said, and he jumped in beside her and gave the order to go. Thus Tamara found herself alone with him flying over the snow under the stars.

There was a delicious feeling of excitement in her veins. They neither of them spoke for a while, but the Prince drew nearer and yet nearer, and presently his arm slipped round her, and he folded her close.

"Doushka," he whispered. "I hate the Englishman--and life is so short.

Let us taste it while we may," and then he bent and kissed her lips!

Tamara struggled against the intense intoxicating emotion she was experiencing. What frightful tide was this which had swept into her well-ordered life! She vainly put up her arms and tried to push him away, but with each sign of revolt he held her the tighter.

"Darling," he said softly in her ear. "My little white soul. Do not fight, it is perfectly useless, because I _will_ do what I wish. See, I will be gentle and just caress you, if you do not madden me by trying to resist!"

Then he gathered her right into his arms, and again bent and most tenderly kissed her. All power of movement seemed to desert Tamara. She only knew that she was wildly happy, that this was heaven, and she would wish it never to end.

She ceased struggling and closed her eyes, then he whispered all sorts of cooing love words in Russian and French, and rubbed his velvet eyelids against her cheek, and every few seconds his lips would come to meet her lips.

At last, when they had crossed the Troitzka bridge, he permitted her to release herself, and only held her hands under the furs, because dawn was breaking and they could be observed.

But when they turned into the wide Serguiefskaia, which seemed deserted, he bent once more and this time with wildest pa.s.sion he seemed to draw her very soul through her lips.

Then ere she could speak, they drew up at the door, and he lifted her out, and before the Suisse and the waiting footmen.

"Good-night, Madame--sleep well," he calmly said.

But Tamara, trembling with mad emotion, rushed quickly to her room.

CHAPTER XII

In life there comes sometimes a tidal wave in the ebb of which all old landmarks are washed out. And so it was with Tamara. She had fallen into bed half dead with fatigue and emotion, but when she woke the sickly gray light of a Russian winter mid-day pouring into her room, and saw her maid's stolid face, back rushed the events of the night, and she drew in her breath with almost a hiss. Yes, nothing could ever be the same again. "Leave me, Johnson," she said, "I am too tired, I cannot get up yet."

And the respectful maid crept from the room.

Then she lay back in her pillows and forced herself to face the position, and review what she had done, and what she must now do.

First of all, she loved Gritzko, that she could no longer argue with herself about. Secondly, she was an English lady, and could not let herself be kissed by a man whose habit it was to play with whom he chose, and then pa.s.s on. She was free, and he was free, it followed his caressing then--divine as it had been--was an absolute insult. If he wanted her so much he should have asked her to marry him. He had not done so, therefore the only thing which remained for her to do, was to go away. The sooner the better.

Then she thought of all the past.

From the moment of the good-bye at the Sphinx it had been a humiliation for her. Always, always, he had been victor of the situation. Had she been ridiculously weak? What was this fate which had fallen upon her?

What had she done to draw such circ.u.mstances? Then even as she lay there, communing sternly with herself, a thrill swept over her, as her thoughts went back to that last pa.s.sionate kiss. And her slender hands clenched under the clothes.

"If he really loved me," she sighed, "I would face the uncertain happiness with him. I know now he causes me emotions of which I never dreamed and for which I would pay that price. But I have no single proof that he does really love me. He may be playing in the same way with Tatiane Shebanoff--and the rest." And at this picture her pride rose in wild revolt.

Never, never! should he play with her again at least!

Then she thought of all her stupid ways, perhaps if she had been different, not so hampered by prejudice, but natural like all these women here, perhaps she could have made him really love her.--Ah!--if so.

This possibility, however, brought no comfort, only increased regret.

The first thing now to be done was to restrain herself in an iron control. To meet him casually. To announce to her G.o.dmother that she must go home, and as soon as the visit to Moscow should be over, she would return to England. She must not be too sudden, he would think she was afraid. She would be just stiff and polite and serene, and show him he was a matter of indifference to her, and that she had no intention to be trifled with again!

At last, aching in mind and body, she lay still. Meanwhile, below in the blue salon, the Princess Ardacheff was conversing with Stephen Strong.

"Yes, mon ami," she was saying. "You must come--we go in a week--the day after my ball, to show Tamara Moscow, and from there to spend a night at Milaslav. Olga and Sonia and her husband and the Englishman, and Serge Grekoff and Valonne are coming, and it will be quite amusing."

"Think of the travelling and my old bones!" And Stephen Strong smiled.

"But since it is your wish, dear Princess, of course I must come."

They were old and very intimate friends these two, and with him the Princess was accustomed to talk over most of her plans.

He got up and lit a cigarette, then he walked across the room and came back again, while his hostess surveyed him with surprise. At last he sat down.

"Vera, tell me the truth," he said. "How are things going? I confess last night gave me qualms."

The Princess gazed at him inquiringly.

"Why qualms?"