His Hour - Page 50/137

And then about three o'clock the entire troupe filed out of the room

for refreshment and rest. The atmosphere was thick with smoke, and

heated to an incredible extent. Some one started to play the piano, and

every one began to dance a wild round--a mazurka, perhaps--and Tamara

found herself clasped tightly in the arms of her Prince.

She did not know the step, but they valsed to the tune, and all the

time he was whispering mad things in Russian in her ear. She could not

correct him, because she did not know what they might mean.

"Doushka," he said at last. "So you are awake; so it is not milk and

water after all in those pretty blue veins! God! I will teach you to

live!"

And Tamara was not angry; she felt nothing except an unreasoning

pleasure and exultation.

The amateur bandsman came to a stop, and another took his place; but

the spell fortunately was broken, and she could pull herself together

and return to sane ways.

"I am tired," she said, when the Prince would have gone on, "and I am

almost faint for want of air." So he opened a window and left her for a

moment in peace.

She danced again with the first man who asked her, going quickly from

one to another so as to avoid having to be too often held by the

Prince. But each time she felt his arm round her, back again would

steal the delicious mad thrill.

"I hope you are amusing yourself, dear child," her godmother said.

"This is a Russian scene; you would not see it in any other land."

And indeed Tamara was happy, in spite of her agitation and unrest.

She sat down now with Olga Gléboff, and they watched the others while

they took breath. The Prince was dancing with Princess Shébanoff, and

her charming face was turned up to him with an adoring smile.

"Poor Tatiane,--" Countess Olga said low to herself.

When the gipsies returned, their music grew wilder than ever, and some

of the solos seemed to touch responsive chords in Tamara's very bones.

The Prince sat next her on the sofa now, and every few moments he would

bend over to take an almond, or light a cigarette, so that he touched

her apparently without intention, but nevertheless with intent. And the

same new and intoxicating sensation would steal through her, and she

would draw her slender figure away and try to be stiff and severe, but

with no effect.