Tamara asked to be excused from going on to supper and the ball which
was taking place. And she kept close to her godmother while going out,
and so contrived that she did not say a word alone with Gritzko. It was
because he acquiesced fully in this line of conduct that she was able
to carry it through, otherwise he would not have permitted it for a
moment.
He realized from this night that the situation could only be made
possible if he saw her rarely and before people--alone with her, human
nature would be too strong. So with the most frigid courtesy and
ceremony between them the days wore on, and toward the beginning of the
following week Gritzko went off with Jack Courtray on the bear-hunt. He
could stand no more.
But after he was gone Tamara loathed the moments. She was overwrought
and overstrung. Harassed by the wailing and expostulations of her
family for what they termed her "rash act," worried by dressmakers and
dozens of letters to write, troubled always with the one dominating
fear, at last she collapsed and for two days lay really ill in a
darkened room.
Then Gritzko returned, and there were only five days before the
wedding. He had sent her flowers each morning as a lover should, and he
had loaded her with presents,--all of which she received in the same
crushed spirit. With the fixed idea in her brain that he was only
marrying her because as a gentleman he must, none of his gifts gave her
any pleasure. And he, with immense control of passion had played his
part, only his time of probation was illumined by the knowledge of
coming joy. Whereas poor Tamara, as the time wore on, lost all hope,
and grew daily paler and more fragile-looking.
Her father had a bad attack of the gout, and could not possibly move;
but her brother Tom and her sister, Lady Newbridge, and Millicent
Hardcastle were to arrive three days before the wedding.