Tamara will be all right. I wish to heavens she
had taken me with her. We have got dry rot in this house, that is what
is the matter with us!"
"Tom!" almost gasped Miss Underdown. "Your manners are extremely
displeasing, and the tone of your remarks is far from what one could
wish!"
Meanwhile Tamara was speeding on her way to the North, her interest and
excitement in her journey deepening with each mile.
The snow and the vast forests impressed her from the train windows.
Every smallest shade made its effect upon her brain. Tamara was
sensitive to all form and color. She was a person who apprehended
things, and from the habit of keeping all her observations to herself
perhaps the faculty of perception had grown the keener.
The silence seemed to be the first thing she remarked on reaching the
frontier. The porters were so grave and quiet, with their bearded
kindly faces, many of them like the saints and Biblical characters in
Sunday-school picture books at home.
And finally she arrived at St. Petersburg, and found her godmother
waiting for her on the platform. They recognized each other
immediately. Tamara had several photographs of the Princess Ard?cheff.
"Welcome, _ma filleule_," that lady cried, while she shook her hand.
"After all these years I can have you in my house."
They said all sorts of mutually agreeable things on their way thither,
and they looked at each other shyly.
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