"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 butted 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