guitars.

These were the famous Bohemians! Their appearance at all events was
disillusioning enough. Tamara's disappointment was immense.

But presently when they began to sing she realized that there was
something--something in their music--even though it was of an intense
unrest.

She found it was the custom for them to sing a weird chant song on the
name of each guest, and every one must drink to this guest's health,
all standing, and quaffing the glasses of champagne down at one
draught.

That they all remained sober at the end of the evening seemed to do
great credit to their heads, for Tamara, completely unaccustomed to the
smoke and the warm room, feared even to sip at her glass.

The toasting over, every one sat down, Prince Milaslávski and a Pole
being the only two in front of the table, and they with immense spirit
chaffed the company, and called the tunes.

The music was of the most wild, a queer metallic sound, and the airs
were full of unexpected harmonies and nerve-racking chords. It fired
the sense, in spite of the hideous singers.

They all sat there with perfectly immovable faces and entirely still
hands,--singing without gesticulations what were evidently passionate
love-songs! Nothing could have been more incongruous or grotesque!