Part 6 (2/2)

”If the teacher is young and handsome enough to make your heart beat,”

said her old companion. And then Millicent and the Prince joined them.

Mrs. Hardcastle's round blue eyes were flas.h.i.+ng brightly, and her fresh face was aglow with exercise and enjoyment.

”Tamara dear, you are too incorrigibly lazy. Why do you sit here instead of taking exercise? and you have no idea of the interesting things the Prince has been telling me. All about a Russian poet called--oh, I can't p.r.o.nounce the name, but who wrote of a devil--not exactly Faust, you know, though something like it.”

Tamara noticed that amused, whimsical, mocking gleam in the Cossack's great eyes, but Millicent went gaily on, unconscious of anything but herself.

”I mean those mythical, strange sort of devils who come to earth, you know, and--and--make love to ladies--a sort of Satan like in Marie Corelli's lovely book. You remember, Tamara, the one you were so funny about, laughing when you read it.”

”You mean 'The Demon' of Lermontoff, probably, Millicent, don't you?”

Tamara said. ”A friend of my mother's translated it into English, and I have known it since I was a child. I think it must be very fine in the original,” and she looked at the Prince.

In one moment his face became serious and sympathetic.

”You know our great poet's work, then?” he said, surprised. ”One would not have thought it!”

Then again Tamara's anger rose. There was always the insinuation in his remarks, seemingly unconscious, and therefore the more irritating, that she was a commonplace fool.

”Her name--the heroine's--is the same as my own,” she said, gravely; but there was a challenge in her eyes.

”Tamara!” he said. ”Well--it could be--a devil might come your way, but you would kneel and pray, and eat bonbons, and not listen to him.”

”It would depend upon the devil,” she said.

”Those who live the longest will see the most,” and the Prince put back his head and laughed with real enjoyment at his thoughts, just as he had done when the two goats had b.u.t.ted at one another in the road.

Tamara felt her cheeks blaze with rage, but she would not enter the lists, in spite of the late challenge in her eyes.

Mr. Strong had vacated Millicent's chair and taken his own. The party soon settled into their legitimate places, and Tamara again took up her book.

”No, don't read,” the Prince said. ”You get angry at once with me when we talk, and the red comes into your cheeks, and I like it.”

Exasperation was almost uncontrollable in Tamara. She remained silent, only the little ear next the Prince burned scarlet.

”Some day you will come to Russia,” he said, ”and then you will learn many things.”

”I have no desire to go there,” said Tamara, lying frankly, as it had always been her great wish, and indeed her G.o.dmother, who never forgot her, had often begged her to visit that northern clime; but Russia!--as well have suggested the moon at Underwood.

”It would freeze you, perhaps, or burn you--who can tell?” the Prince said. ”One would see when you got there. I have an old lady, a dear friend, with white hair and a mole on her cheek--someone who sees straight. She would be good for your education.”

Tamara thought it would be wiser not to show any further annoyance, so she said lightly:

”Yes, I am only sixteen, and have never left the schoolroom; it would be delightful to be taught how to live.”

He turned and smiled at her.

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