CHAPTER III
The Khedive's ball was a fairly fine sight, Tamara thought, but drivingthrough the streets took such a ridiculously long time, the crowd wasso great. The palace itself was, and probably is still, like all otherpalaces that are decorated in that nondescript style of Third EmpireFrance--not a thing of beauty. But the levee uniforms of the officersgave an air of brilliance contrasted with the civilians of theGovernment of Egypt. Tamara thought their dress very ugly, it remindedher of a clergyman's at a children's party, where he has been decoratedwith caps and sham orders from the crackers to amuse the little guests.It seemed strange to see the English faces beneath the fez. She andMillicent Hardcastle walked about and talked to their friends. Therewere many smart young gallants in the regiments then quartered inCairo, who enjoyed dancing with the slender, youthful widow with thegood jewels and pretty dress, and soon Tamara found herself whirlingwith a gay hussar.
"Let us stop near the Royalties and look at the Russians," he said."You know, a Grand Duke arrived to-day, and must be here to-night."
They came to a standstill close to the little group surrounding theKhedive, and amid the splendid uniforms of the Grand Duke's suite therewas one of scarlet, the like of which Tamara had never seen before.
Afterward she learned it was a Cossack of the Emperor's escort, but atthe moment it seemed like a gorgeous fancy dress. The high boots andlong, strangely graceful coat, cut with an Eastern hang, the whiteunder-dress, the way the loose scarlet sleeves fell at the wrist,showing the white tight ones, the gold and silver trimmings and thearms, stuck in the quaint belt, all pleased her eye extremely; and thenshe recognized its wearer as the young man of the Sphinx.
How dress changes a person! she thought. He looked at ease now in thisgorgeous garment, and a very prince for a fairy tale. That accountedfor the dreadful gray flannel--he was a soldier and unaccustomed towearing ordinary clothes. She had heard that in foreign countries eventhe officers wore their uniforms habitually; not as the English do,merely as an irksome duty.
He did not appear to see her, but when she began dancing again, andpaused once more for breath, she was close to him as he stood some wayapart and alone.
Their eyes met. His had the same whimsical provoking smile in themwhich angered and yet attracted her. He made no move to bow to her, nordid he take any steps to be introduced. She burnt with annoyance.
"He might at least have been presented; it is too impertinentotherwise!" she thought.
She knew she was looking her best: a fair, distinguished woman as youngand fresh as a girl. Hardly a man in the room was unconscious of herpresence. Anger lent an extra brightness to her eyes and cheeks. Shewent on dancing wildly.
The next time she was near the stranger was some half an hour later,although not once was she able to banish the scarlet form from herview. He did not dance. He talked now and then to his Prince, and thenhe was presented to the official ladies, with the rest of the suite. Helooked bored.
Tamara would not ask his name, which she could have done with ease, asevery one was interested in the Russians and glad to talk about them.She avoided the English group of bigwigs where they were standing, andwhere she had her place--And when they passed the tall Cossack againshe turned upon him a witheringly unconscious glance.
However, this was not to continue the whole night, for presently shewas requested by one of the attaches to come and be presented to theGrand Duke, and when she had made her curtsey the suite came up in turn.
"Prince Milaslavski," and she heard one of his friends call him"Gritzko." The name fell pleasantly on her ears--"Gritzko"! Why was hesuch a wretch as to humiliate her so? She felt horribly small. Sheought never to have let him speak to her at the Sphinx. She was beingthoroughly punished for her unconventionality now!
She said a few words in French to each of the others, and then, as hestill stood there with that provoking smile in his splendid eyes, sheturned away almost biting her lip with shame and rage.
Before she knew it she was dancing with a fierce count in green andsilver. Their conversation was interesting.
"You are here since long, Madame?"
"No, Monsieur, only a few weeks, and I go to-morrow."
"Ah! you dance beautifully!"
"Do I? I am glad----"
The Russian Count held her very tightly, and they stopped quite out ofbreath, where the screened windows half-hid the poor ladies of theharem, who watched the throng from their safe retreat.
The Count bowed--and Tamara bowed. A section, not the whole dance, wasevidently the Russian custom.
Then a voice said close to her ear:
"May I, too, have the honor of a turn, Madame?" and she looked up intothe eyes of the Prince.
For a second she hesitated. Her first impulse was to scornfully say no,but she quickly realized that would be undignified and absurd; so shesaid yes, coldly, and let him place his arm about her. The band wasplaying a particularly sensuous valse, which drove all young people madthat year, and--if the Count had danced well--this man's movements wereheaven. Tamara did not speak a word. She purposely did not look at him,but drooped her proud head so that the flashing diamonds of her tiarawere all he could have seen of her.
He put no special meaning into the way he held her; he just danceddivinely; but there was something in the creature himself of aperfectly annoying attractiveness--or so it seemed to Tamara.
They at last paused for a moment, and then he spoke. He made not theslightest allusion to the Sphinx incident. He spoke gravely of Cairo,and the polo, and the races, and said that his Grand Duke had arrivedthat day. He was not on his staff, but was indeed travelling in Egyptfor his own amusement and delectation, he said.
He had been there since November, it seemed, and had been up the Nile,and had fortunately been able to secure a little bungalow at Mena,where he could spend some hours of peace.
Then Tamara laughed. She remembered Millicent Hardcastle'sconsternation over those unfortunate pyjamas. She wondered if Millicentwould realize that she--Tamara--was dancing with their wearer now! Whenshe laughed he put his arm around her once more and began dancing. Thistime he held her rather closely, and suddenly as she laughed again toherself provokingly, he clasped her tight.
"If you laugh like that I will kiss you--here in the room," he said.
Tamara stopped dead short. She blazed with anger.
"How dare you be so impertinent?" she said.
They were up in a corner; everyone's back was turned to them happily,for in one second he had bent and kissed her neck. It was done withsuch incredible swiftness and audacity that even had they been observedit must only have looked as though he bent to pick up something she haddropped. But the kiss burned into Tamara's flesh.
She could hardly keep the tears of outraged pride from her eyes.
"How dare you! How dare you!" she hissed. "Truly you are making meashamed of having let you speak to me last night!"
"Last night?" he said, while he forcibly drew her hand within his armand began walking toward the group of her friends. "Last night you wereafraid some should see me from the hotel, and to-night you dare me. Doit once more and I will kiss your lips!"
Tamara went dead white; she felt as if the ground were sinking beneathher feet; her knees trembled. In all her smooth, conventionally orderedlife she had never experienced such a strong emotion.
The Prince glanced at her, and the fierceness went out of his eyes. Hebowed gravely with the most courtly homage, and left her standing byMillicent's side.
Then Tamara remembered she was a lady, and that tenue was expected ofher; so she turned to her friend gaily and said how she was enjoyingthe ball; but her fine nostrils quivered at intervals for the rest ofthe night.
"Thank God!" she said to herself, when a few hours later she got intobed--"Thank God! we are going tomorrow. I shall never see him again,and no one shall ever know."