The whole day of the sight-seeing passed with comparative smoothness,
Tamara persistently remained with Sonia's husband or Stephen Strong,
when any moment came that she should be alone with any man.
She was apparently indifferent to Gritzko,--considering that she was
throbbing with interest in his every movement and inwardly longing to
talk to him--she kept up the rôle she had set herself to play
very well. It was not an agreeable one, and but for the inward feverish
excitement she would have suffered much pain.
Gritzko for his part seemed whimsically indifferent for most of the
time, but once now and then the Princess, who watched things as the god
in the car, experienced a sense of uneasiness. And yet she could not
suggest any other line of conduct for Tamara to pursue. But on the
whole the day was a success.
The two young English guests had both been extremely interested in
what they saw. Stephen Strong was an old hand and knew it intimately,
and the whole party was so merry and gay. The snow fortunately had
held, and they rushed about in little sleighs seeing the quaint
buildings and picturesque streets and the churches with their bright
gilt domes. Moscow was really Russian, Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin told
them, unlike Petersburg, which at a first glance might be Berlin or
Vienna, or anywhere else; but Moscow is like no other city in the
world.
"How extremely good you Russians must be," Tamara said. "The quantities
of churches you have, and everywhere the people seem so devout. Look at
them kissing that Ikon in the street! Such faith is beautiful to see."
"Our faith is our safeguard," her companion said. "When the people
become sufficiently educated to have doubts then, indeed, a sad day
will come."
"They have such grave patient faces, don't you think?" said Stephen
Strong. "It is not exactly a hopeless expression, it is more one of
resignation. Whenever I come here I feel of what use is strife, and
yet after a while they make one melancholy."
They were waiting by the house of the Romanoffs, for their guide to
open the door, and just then a batch of beggars passed, their wild hair
and terribly ragged sheepskins making them a queer gruesome sight. They
craved alms with the same patient smile with which they thanked when
money was given. Misery seemed to stalk about a good deal.
"How could a great family have lived in this tiny house?" Tamara asked.
"Really, people in olden times seem to have been able to double up
anywhere. Pray look at this bedroom and this ridiculous bed!"