Thus the host and his English guest were left
practically alone.
"I did not mean you to play," he said, "I knew you couldn't--I arranged
it like this."
"Why did you know I couldn't?" Tamara asked. "I am too stupid perhaps
you think!"
"Yes--too stupid and--too sweet."
"I am neither stupid--nor sweet!" and her eyes flashed.
"Probably not, but you seem so to me.--Now don't get angry at once, it
makes our acquaintance so fatiguing, I have each time to be presented
over again."
Then Tamara laughed.
"It really is all very funny," she said.
"And how is the estimable Mrs. Hardcastle?" he asked, when he had
laughed too--his joyous laugh. "This is a safe subject and we can sit
on the fender without your wanting to push me into the fire over it."
"I am not at all sure of that," answered Tamara. She could not resist
his charm, she could not continue quarrelling with him; somehow it
seemed too difficult here in his own house, so she smiled as she went
on. "If you laugh at my Millicent, I shall get very angry indeed."
"Laugh at your Millicent! The idea is miles from my brain--did not I
tell you when I could find a wife like that I would marry--what more
can I say!" and the Prince looked at her with supreme gravity. "Did she
tell 'Henry' that a devil of a Russian bear had got drunk and flung a
gipsy into the sea?"
"Possibly.
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