Tamara and the Princess met him everywhere, and while the Princess did
her best to throw them together, Tamara maneuvered so that not once
could he speak to her alone, while she was assiduously charming to
every one else. Now it was old Prince Miklefski or Stephen Strong, now
one of the husbands, or Jack, and just often enough to give things a
zest she was bewitching to the handsome Chevalier Garde.
And the strange, fierce light in Gritzko's eyes did not decrease.
The night before the Ardácheff ball they were going to a reception at
one of the Embassies for a foreign King and Queen, who were paying a
visit to the Court, and Tamara dressed with unusual care, and fastened
her high tiara in her soft brown hair.
The Prince should see her especially attractive, she thought.
But when they arrived at the great house and walked among the brilliant
throng no Prince was to be seen!--It might be he had no intention to
come.
Presently Tamara went off to the refreshment room with her friend
Valonne.
The conversation turned to Gritzko with an easy swing.
He seemed on the brink of one of his maddest fits. Valonne had seen him
in the club just before dinner.
"If you really go to England I think he will follow you, Madame," he
said.
"How ridiculous!" and Tamara laughed. "How can it make a difference to
him whether I go or no? We do not exist for one another," and she
fanned herself rather rapidly, while Valonne smiled a fine smile.
"I should not be quite sure of that," he said. "If I might predict, I
should say you will be lucky if you get away from here without being
the cause of a duel of some sort."
"A duel!" Tamara was startled. "How dreadful, and how silly! But why? I
thought dueling had quite gone out in all civilized countries; and in
any case, why fight about me? And who should fight? Surely you are only
teasing me, Count Valonne."
"Duels are real facts here, I am afraid," he said. "Gritzko has already
engaged in two of them. He is not quarrelsome, but just never permits
any one to cross his wishes or interfere with his game."
"But what is his game? You speak as though it were some kind of
cards or plot. What do you mean?" and Tamara, with heightened color,
lifted her head.
"The game of Gritzko?" and Count Valonne laughed. "Frankly, I think he
is very much in love with you, Madame," he said. "So by that you can
guess what would be any man's game."