Tamara, left to herself, gazed into the glowing embers of her wood
fire.

"I wonder--I wonder," she said. But what she wondered she hardly dared
admit--even to herself.




CHAPTER VII


The next day was the last of the Russian old year--the 13th of January
new style--and when Tamara appeared about ten o'clock in her
godmother's own sitting-room, a charming apartment full of the most
interesting miniatures and bibelots collected by the great Ardácheff,
friend of Catherine II., she found the Princess already busy at her
writing table.

"Good-morning, my child," she said. "You behold me up and working at a
time when most of my countrywomen are not yet in their baths. We keep
late hours here in the winter, while it is dark and cold. You will get
quite accustomed to going to bed at two and rising at ten; but
to-night, if it pleases you to fall in with what is on the tapis for
you, I fear it will be even four in the morning before you sleep.
Prince Milaslávski has telephoned that he gives a party at his house on
the Fontonka, to dine first and then go on to a café to hear the
Bohemians sing. It is a peculiarity of the place these Bohemians--we
shall drink in the New Year and then go. It will not bore you. No? Then
it is decided," and she pressed a lovely little Faberger enamel bell