"We are so far away that you do not even imagine us," she said. "You
English have read that there was an Ivan the Terrible and a Peter the
Great, who crushed through your Evelyn's hedges, and was a giant of
seven foot high! Many of you believe wolves prowl in the streets at
night, and that among the highest society Nihilists stalk, disguised as
heaven knows what! While the sudden disappearance of a member of any
great or small family can be accounted for by a nocturnal visit of
police, and a transportation in chains to Siberian mines! Is it not so,
Tamara?"

Tamara laughed. "Yes, indeed," she said. "I am sure that is what Aunt
Clara thinks now! Are we not a ridiculously insular people, Marraine?"

She said the last word timidly and put out her hand. "May I call you
Marraine, Princess?" she asked. "I never knew my mother, and it sounds
nice."

"Indeed, yes!" the Princess said, and she rose and kissed Tamara. "Your
mother was very dear to me, long ago, before you were born, we spent a
wild season together of youth and happiness. You shall take the place
of my child Tamara, if she had lived."

Before they had finished drinking their tea, other guests came in--a
tall old General in a beautiful uniform, and two ladies, one young and
the other old. They all spoke English perfectly, and were so agreeable
and _sans façon_, Tamara's first impression was distinctly good.

Presently she heard the elder lady say to her godmother: