yesterday, in the 'Christian Clarion,' how one of their Emperors cut
off everyone's head. Dreadful customs they have, it seems; and one of
their Empresses--Catherine, I think; her name was. Well, dear, it is
too shocking to speak of--and most people were sent to the mines!"

"Oh! hang it all, Aunt Clara, you can't have looked at the date! You
can hunt up just those jolly kind of stories about our Henry VIII. if
you want to, you know, and our Elizabeth wasn't the saint they made
out. And as for Siberia, I am going there myself some day, on the
Trans-Siberian Railway. 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.