every one began to dance a wild round--a mazurka, perhaps--and Tamara
found herself clasped tightly in the arms of her Prince.

She did not know the step, but they valsed to the tune, and all the
time he was whispering mad things in Russian in her ear. She could not
correct him, because she did not know what they might mean.

"Doushka," he said at last. "So you are awake; so it is not milk and
water after all in those pretty blue veins! God! I will teach you to
live!"

And Tamara was not angry; she felt nothing except an unreasoning
pleasure and exultation.

The amateur bandsman came to a stop, and another took his place; but
the spell fortunately was broken, and she could pull herself together
and return to sane ways.

"I am tired," she said, when the Prince would have gone on, "and I am
almost faint for want of air." So he opened a window and left her for a
moment in peace.

She danced again with the first man who asked her, going quickly from
one to another so as to avoid having to be too often held by the
Prince. But each time she felt his arm round her, back again would
steal the delicious mad thrill.

"I hope you are amusing yourself, dear child," her godmother said.
"This is a Russian scene; you would not see it in any other land."