Tamara had a sudden sensation of being a million miles away from
England and her family: it all came as a breath of some other life. She
felt strangely nervous, she had not the least notion why. There was a
reckless look about things which caused a weird thrill.
"If it were only arranged, what capabilities it all has," she thought;
"but as it is, it seems to speak of Gritzko and fierce strife."
Tea and the usual quantities of _bonnes bouches_ and vodka waited
them and a bowl of hot punch.
And all three English people, Stephen Strong, Tamara and Jack, admired
their host's gracious welcome, and his courtly manners. Not a trace of
the wild Gritzko seemed left.
Tamara wondered secretly what their sleeping accommodation would be
like.
"Tantine, you must act hostess for me. Will you show these ladies their
rooms," the Prince said. "Dinner is at eight o'clock, but you have lots
of time before for a little bridge if you want."
He took them through the usual amount of reception-rooms--a
billiard-room and library, and small boudoir--and then they came out on
another staircase which led to the floor above. Here he left them and
returned to the men.
"This was done up by the late Princess, Tamara," her godmother said.
"Even twenty years ago the taste was perfectly awful, as you can see.
The whole house could be made beautiful if only there was someone who
cared--though I expect we shall be comfortable enough.
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