Bram Stoker - "The Lady of the Shroud"

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New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: His Hour

E >> Elinor Glyn >> His Hour




He was a tremendously good fellow every man said. Just a natural animal
creature, whom grooming and polishing in the family for some hundred or
so of years had made into a gentleman.

He was as ignorant as he could well be. To him the geography of the
world meant different places for sport. India represented tigers and
elephants. It had no towns or histories that mattered, it had jungles
and forests. Africa said lions. Austria, chamois--and Russia, bears!

Women were either sisters, or old friends and jolly comrades--like
Tamara. Or they came under the category of sport. A lesser sport, to be
indulged in when the rarer beasts were not obtainable for his gun--but
still sport!

He found himself in a delightful milieu. The prospect of certain bears
in the near future--a dear old friend to frolic with in the immediate
present, and the problematic joys of a possible affair to be indulged
in meanwhile. No wonder he was in the best of spirits, and when Tamara,
without _arrière pensée_, took the empty place at his side, he
bent over her and filled her plate with the thinnest ham he had been
able to cut, with all the apparent air of a devoted lover. And if she
had looked up she would have seen that the Prince suddenly had begun to
watch her with a fierceness in his eyes.

"This is a jolly place," Jack Courtray said. He had just the faintest
lisp, which sounded rather attractive, and Tamara, after the storms and
emotions of the past few days, found a distinct pleasure and rest in
his obviousness.

It is an ill wind which blows no one any good, for presently the Prince
turned and devoted himself to Tatiane Shébanoff.

She was quite the prettiest of all this little clique, petite and fair
and sweet. Divorced from a brute of a husband a year or so ago, and now
married to an elderly Prince.

And she loved Gritzko with passion, and while she was silent about it,
her many friends told him so.

For his part he remained unconcerned, and sometimes troubled himself
about her, and sometimes not.

And so the evening wore on, and apparently it had no distinct sign that
it was to be one of the finger-posts of fate.

When all had finished supper, they moved back into another great room.

"You must notice this, Tamara, it is very Russian," her godmother said.

It was an immense apartment with a great porcelain stove at one corner,
and panelled with wood, and it suggested to Tamara, for no sane reason,
something of an orthodox church! One end was bare, and the other
carpeted with great Persian rugs, had huge divans spread about; there
was an electric piano and an organ, and there were also crossed foils,
and masks, and everything for a fencing bout.

The Prince went to the piano and started a valse. Then he came up to
Tamara and asked her to dance.

There was no trace left of his respectful friendliness! His sleepy eyes
were blazing, he had never looked more oriental, or more savage, or
more intense.

It was almost with a thrill of fear that Tamara yielded herself to his
request. He clasped her so tightly she could hardly breathe, all she
knew was she seemed to be floating in the air, and to be crushed
against his breast.

"Prince, please, I am suffocating!" she cried at last.

Then he swung her off her feet, and stopped by an armchair, and Tamara
subsided into it, panting, not able to speak. And all across her
milk-white chest there were a row of red marks from the heavy silver
cartridges, which cross in two rows in the Cossack dress.

"I would like those brands of me to last forever," the Prince said.


Tamara lay back in the chair a prey to tumultuous emotions. She ought
to be disgusted she supposed, and of course she was--such an
uncivilized horrible thought! but at the same time every nerve was
tingling and her pulse was beating with the strange thrills she had
only lately begun to dream of.

"Tamara! By jove! What have you done to your neck?" Jack Courtray said,
as he came up.

And Tamara was glad she had a gauze scarf over her arm, which she
wrapped around carelessly as she said:

"Nothing, Jack--let's dance!"

"What an awfully decent chap our host is, isn't he!" Lord Courtray
said, as they ambled along in their valse. "And jolly good-looking
too--for a foreigner. These Russians are men after my own heart!"

"Yes, he is good-looking," admitted Tamara. "If he weren't so wild; but
don't you think he has a frightfully savage expression, Jack?"

"If you are intending to play with him, old girl, take my advice, you
had better look out," and he laughed his merry laugh as they stopped
because the piano stopped.

Meanwhile the Prince had left the room.

"Gritzko has gone to telephone for a Tzigane band," Princess Sonia
said. "And to the club and to the reception at Madame Sueboffs, and
soon we shall have enough people for a contre-danse--and some real
fun."

That it was almost three o'clock in the morning never seemed to have
struck anyone!

"Now, tell me everything, Tamara," Lord Courtray said, as they sat down
on one of the big divans. "Give me a few wrinkles. I can see one wants
to comprehend these tent ropes."

"Well, first they are the nicest people you could possibly meet, Jack,"
Tamara said. "And don't imagine because they skylark like this, and sit
up all night, that they aren't most dignified when they have to be.
That is their charm, this sense of the fitness of things. They have not
got to have any pretence like some of us have. Not one of them has a
scrap of pose. They are nice to you because they like you, or they
leave you entirely alone if they do not. And some days when they are
all together they will whisper and titter and have jokes among
themselves, leaving you completely out in the cold--what would really
be fearful ill-manners with us, but it is not in the least, it is just
they have forgotten you are there, and as likely as not you will be the
center of the whispering in the next minute. They are all like
volcanoes with the most beautiful Faberger enamel on the top."

"And the men? I suppose they make awful love?"

"I don't think so," went on Tamara, while she stupidly blushed. "They
all seem to be just merry friends, and the young ones don't go out very
much. I don't mean the quite, quite young who dance with girls, but the
young men. My godmother says they are very hard worked, and in their
leisure they like to have dinners in their regiments--or at
restaurants--with, with other sort of ladies, where they can do what
they please. It seems a little elementary--don't you think so?"

"Jolly common-sense!" said Jack Courtray.

"And then, you see, if by chance, when they are in the world, if they
do fall in love, it is possible for the lady to get a divorce here
without any scandal and fuss, and the whole clan stick to their own
member, no matter how much in the wrong she may be, and so all is
arranged, and life seems much simpler and apparently happier than it is
with us. If it is really so I cannot say, I have not been here long
enough to judge."

"It sounds a kind of Utopia," and Lord Courtray laughed. And just then
the Prince came into the room again, and over to them and they got up
and the two men went off together to examine the foils.

Presently the band arrived and more guests, and soon the contre-danse
was begun. That grown-up people could seriously take pleasure in this
amazing romp was a new and delightful idea to Tamara.

It was a sort of enormous quadrille with numerous figures and
farandole, while one sat on a chair between the figures, as at a
cotillon. And toward the end the company stamped and cried, and the
band sang, and nothing could have been more gay and exciting and wild.

Before they began, the Prince came up to Tamara and said:

"I want you to dance this with me. I have had it on purpose to show you
a real Russian sight."

They had moved into the ballroom by then, which was now a blaze of
light, while as if by magic the sheet coverings had been removed from
the chairs.

And the Prince exerted himself to amuse and please his partner, and did
not again clasp her too tight, only whenever she had turns with her
countryman, his eyes would flame, and he would immediately interrupt
them and carry her off.

Tamara felt perfectly happy, she was no longer analyzing and
questioning, and she was no longer fighting against her inclination.
She abandoned herself to the rushing stream of life.

It was about five o'clock when some one suggested supper at the Islands
was now the proper thing. This was the delightful part about them--on
no occasion was there ever a halt for the consideration of ways and
means. They wanted some particular amusement and--had it! Convention,
from an English point of view, remained an unknown quantity.--Now those
who decided to continue the feasting all got into their waiting
conveyances.

With the thermometer at fifteen degrees Reaumur, a coachman's life is
not one altogether to be envied in Russia, but apparently custom will
make anything endurable.

"I know you like the troika, Tamara," Princess Ardácheff said. "So you
go with Olga and Gritzko and your friend--only be sure you wrap up your
head."

And when they were all getting in, the Countess Gléboff said:

"It is so terribly cold tonight, Gritzko. I am going to sit with my
back to the horses, so as not to get the wind in my face."

When they were tucked in under the furs this arrangement seemed to Jack
Courtray one of real worth, for he instantly proceeded to take Countess
Olga's hand, while he whispered that he was cold and she could not be
so inhuman as to let a poor stranger freeze!

It seemed amusing to look from the windows of a private room, down upon
a gay supping throng, in the general salle at the restaurant on the
Islands, while Tziganes played and their supper was being prepared.

"Who could think it was five o'clock in the morning! What a lesson for
our rotten old County Council in London," Jack Courtray said. "By Jove!
this is the place for me!" and he proceeded to make violent love to
Olga Gléboff, to who's side he remained persistently glued.

And then the gayest repast began; nothing could have been more
entertaining or full of wild _entrain_, and yet no one over-did
it, or was vulgar or coarse.

At the last moment, when they were all starting for home about seven
o'clock, Countess Olga decided she could not face the cold of the open
sleigh, and Lord Courtray and she got into her motor instead.

It was done so quickly, Tamara was already packed into the troika, and
the outside steeds were prancing in their desire to be off.

"The horses won't stand," the Prince said, and he jumped in beside her
and gave the order to go. Thus Tamara found herself alone with him
flying over the snow under the stars.

There was a delicious feeling of excitement in her veins. They neither
of them spoke for a while, but the Prince drew nearer and yet nearer,
and presently his arm slipped round her, and he folded her close.

"Doushka," he whispered. "I hate the Englishman--and life is so short.
Let us taste it while we may," and then he bent and kissed her lips!

Tamara struggled against the intense intoxicating emotion she was
experiencing. What frightful tide was this which had swept into her
well-ordered life! She vainly put up her arms and tried to push him
away, but with each sign of revolt he held her the tighter.

"Darling," he said softly in her ear. "My little white soul. Do not
fight, it is perfectly useless, because I _will_ do what I wish.
See, I will be gentle and just caress you, if you do not madden me by
trying to resist!"

Then he gathered her right into his arms, and again bent and most
tenderly kissed her. All power of movement seemed to desert Tamara. She
only knew that she was wildly happy, that this was heaven, and she
would wish it never to end.

She ceased struggling and closed her eyes, then he whispered all sorts
of cooing love words in Russian and French, and rubbed his velvet
eyelids against her cheek, and every few seconds his lips would come to
meet her lips.

At last, when they had crossed the Troitzka bridge, he permitted her to
release herself, and only held her hands under the furs, because dawn
was breaking and they could be observed.

But when they turned into the wide Serguiefskaia, which seemed
deserted, he bent once more and this time with wildest passion he
seemed to draw her very soul through her lips.

Then ere she could speak, they drew up at the door, and he lifted her
out, and before the Suisse and the waiting footmen.

"Good-night, Madame--sleep well," he calmly said.

But Tamara, trembling with mad emotion, rushed quickly to her room.




CHAPTER XII


In life there comes sometimes a tidal wave in the ebb of which all old
landmarks are washed out. And so it was with Tamara. She had fallen
into bed half dead with fatigue and emotion, but when she woke the
sickly gray light of a Russian winter mid-day pouring into her room,
and saw her maid's stolid face, back rushed the events of the night,
and she drew in her breath with almost a hiss. Yes, nothing could ever
be the same again. "Leave me, Johnson," she said, "I am too tired, I
cannot get up yet."

And the respectful maid crept from the room.

Then she lay back in her pillows and forced herself to face the
position, and review what she had done, and what she must now do.

First of all, she loved Gritzko, that she could no longer argue with
herself about. Secondly, she was an English lady, and could not let
herself be kissed by a man whose habit it was to play with whom he
chose, and then pass on. She was free, and he was free, it followed his
caressing then--divine as it had been--was an absolute insult. If he
wanted her so much he should have asked her to marry him. He had not
done so, therefore the only thing which remained for her to do, was to
go away. The sooner the better.

Then she thought of all the past.

From the moment of the good-bye at the Sphinx it had been a humiliation
for her. Always, always, he had been victor of the situation. Had she
been ridiculously weak? What was this fate which had fallen upon her?
What had she done to draw such circumstances? Then even as she lay
there, communing sternly with herself, a thrill swept over her, as her
thoughts went back to that last passionate kiss. And her slender hands
clenched under the clothes.

"If he really loved me," she sighed, "I would face the uncertain
happiness with him. I know now he causes me emotions of which I never
dreamed and for which I would pay that price. But I have no single
proof that he does really love me. He may be playing in the same way
with Tatiane Shébanoff--and the rest." And at this picture her pride
rose in wild revolt.

Never, never! should he play with her again at least!

Then she thought of all her stupid ways, perhaps if she had been
different, not so hampered by prejudice, but natural like all these
women here, perhaps she could have made him really love her.--Ah!--if
so.

This possibility, however, brought no comfort, only increased regret.

The first thing now to be done was to restrain herself in an iron
control. To meet him casually. To announce to her godmother that she
must go home, and as soon as the visit to Moscow should be over, she
would return to England. She must not be too sudden, he would think she
was afraid. She would be just stiff and polite and serene, and show him
he was a matter of indifference to her, and that she had no intention
to be trifled with again!

At last, aching in mind and body, she lay still. Meanwhile, below in
the blue salon, the Princess Ardácheff was conversing with Stephen
Strong.

"Yes, mon ami," she was saying. "You must come--we go in a week--the
day after my ball, to show Tamara Moscow, and from there to spend a
night at Milasláv. Olga and Sonia and her husband and the Englishman,
and Serge Grekoff and Valonne are coming, and it will be quite
amusing."

"Think of the travelling and my old bones!" And Stephen Strong smiled.
"But since it is your wish, dear Princess, of course I must come."

They were old and very intimate friends these two, and with him the
Princess was accustomed to talk over most of her plans.

He got up and lit a cigarette, then he walked across the room and came
back again, while his hostess surveyed him with surprise. At last he
sat down.

"Vera, tell me the truth," he said. "How are things going? I confess
last night gave me qualms."

The Princess gazed at him inquiringly.

"Why qualms?"

"You see, Gritzko is quite an exceptional person, he is no type of a
Russian or any other nation that one can reckon with, he is himself,
and he has the most attractive magnetic personality a man could have."

"Well, then?"

"And if you knew the simple unsophisticated atmosphere in which your
godchild has been brought up----."

"Stephen, really,"--and the Princess tapped her foot impatiently.
"Please speak out. Say what you mean."

"She is no more fitted to cope with him than a baby, that is what I
mean."

"But why should she cope with him? Are not men tiresome!" and the
Princess sighed. "Can't you see I want them to love one another. It is
just that--if she would not snub and resist him--all would be well."

"It did not look much like resistance last night," said Stephen Strong.
"And if Gritzko is only playing the fool, and means nothing serious,
then I think it is a shame."

"You don't suggest, surely, that I should interfere with fate?"

"Only to the extent of not giving him unlimited opportunities. You
remember that season in London--and your brother Alexis--and her
mother, and what came of that!"

The Princess put her hands up with a sudden gesture and covered her
eyes.

"Oh! Stephen! how cruel of you to bring it back to me," she said; "but
this is quite different--they are free--and it is my dearest wish that
Tamara and Gritzko should be united." Then she continued in another
tone. "I think you are quite wrong in any case. My plan is to throw
them together as much as possible--he will see her real worth and
delicate sweetness--and they will get over their quarrelling. It is her
reserve and resistance which drives him mad. Sometimes I do not know
how he will act."

"No, one can never count upon how he will act!" and Stephen Strong
smiled. "But since you are satisfied I will say no more, only between
you don't break my gentle little countrywoman's heart."

"You hurt me very much, Stephen!" the Princess said. "You--you--of all
people, who know the tie there is between Tamara and me. You to suggest
even that I would aid in breaking her heart."

"Dear Vera, forgive me," and he kissed her plump white hand. "I will
suggest nothing, and will leave it all to you, but do not forget a
man's passions, and Gritzko, as we know, is not made of snow!"

"You all misjudge him, my poor Gritzko," the Princess said, hardly
mollified. "He has the noblest nature underneath, but some day you will
know."

It was late in the afternoon when Tamara appeared, to find a room full
of guests having tea. Her mind was made up, and she had regained her
calm.

She would use the whole of her intelligence and play the game. She
would be completely at ease and indifferent to Gritzko and would be
incidentally as nice as possible to Jack. And so get through the short
time before she must go home. "For," she had reasoned with herself
sadly, "If he had loved me really he would never have behaved as he has
done."

So when the Prince and Lord Courtray came in together presently, her
greeting to both was naturalness itself, and she took Jack off to a
distant sofa with friendly familiarity, and conversed with him upon
their home affairs.

"By Jove! you know, Tamara, you are awfully improved, my child," Lord
Courtray said, presently. "You've acquired some kind of a look in your
eye! If I wasn't so taken with that darling little Countess Olga I
should feel inclined to make love to you myself."

"You dear silly old Jack!" Tamara said.

It was Lord Courtray's fashion, when talking to any woman, even his own
mother, to lean over her with rather a devoted look. And Tamara
glancing up caught sight of Prince Milaslávski's face. It wore an
expression which almost filled her with fear. Of all things she must
provoke no quarrel between him and dear old Jack, who was quite
blameless in the affair.

At the same time there was a consolation in the knowledge that she
could make him feel.

She thought it wiser soon to rise and return to the general group,
while Jack, on his own amusement bent, now took his leave.

She sat down by Stephen Strong, she was in a most gracious mood it
seemed.

"You have heard of our excursion to Moscow, Mr. Strong," she said. "The
Princess says you must come too, I am looking forward to it immensely."

"We ought to have a most promising time in front of us," that old cynic
replied, while he puffed rings of smoke. "It all should be as full of
adventure as an egg is full of meat!"

"I have been reading up the guide books, so as to be thoroughly learned
and teach Jack--he is so terribly ignorant always, worse than Tom!" and
she laughed.

"We must try and see the whole show, and if the snow lasts, as it
promises to do, we should have a delightful time."

"Gritzko," Princess Ardácheff said. "How many versts is it from Moscow
to Milasláv?"

The Prince had been leaning on the mantlepiece without speaking for
some moments, listening to Tamara's conversation, but now he joined in,
and sinking into a chair beside her, answered from there.

"Thirty versts, Tantine--we shall go in troikas--but you must send your
servants on the night before."

Then he turned to Tamara, who seemed wonderfully absorbed, almost
whispering to Stephen Strong. "Did you sleep well, Madame?" he said.
There was an expression of mocking defiance in his glance, which
angered Tamara. However, faithful to her resolutions, she kept herself
calm.

"Never better, thank you, Prince. It was a most interesting evening,
and I am learning the customs of the country," she said. "The thing
which strikes me most is your wonderful chivalry to women--especially
strange women."

They looked into one another's eyes and measured swords, and if she had
known it she had never so deeply attracted him before.

She had broached the subject of her return to England to her godmother,
who had laughed the idea to scorn, but now she spoke to Gritzko as if
it were an established fact.

"I go home from Moscow, you know," she said.

"You find our country too cold?" he asked.

"It is too full of contrasts, freezing one moment and thawing the next,
and while outside one is turned to ice, indoors one is consumed with
heat; it is upsetting to the equilibrium."

"All the same, you will not go," and he leaned back in the chair with
his provoking lazy smile.

"Indeed, I shall."

"We shall see. There are a number of things for you to learn yet."

"What things?"

The Prince lit a cigarette. "The possibilities of the unknown fires you
have lit," he said. "You remember the night at the Sphinx, when we said
good-bye. I told you a proverb they have there about meeting before
dawn, and not parting until dawn. Well, that dawn has not arrived yet.
And I have no intention--for the moment--that it shall arrive."

Tamara felt excited, and as ever his tone of
complete omnipotence annoyed her. At the same time to see him sitting
there, his eyes fixed with deep interest on her face, thrilled and
exalted her. Oh! she certainly loved him! Alas! and it would be
dreadfully difficult to say good-bye. But those three words in his
sentence stung her pride--"for the moment." Yes, there was always this
hint of caprice. Always he gave her the sensation of instability, there
was no way to hold him. She must ever guard her emotions and ever be
ready to fence.

And now that she had taken a resolve to go home, to linger no more, she
was free to tease him as much as she could. To feel that she could,
gave her a fillip, and added a fresh charm to her face.

"You think you can rule the whole world to your will, Prince," she
said.

"I can rule the part of it I want, as you will find," he retorted
fiercely. She made a pouting moue and tapped her little foot, then she
laughed.

"How amusing it would be if you happened to be mistaken this time," she
cooed. Then she rapidly turned to the Princess Sonia, who had just come
in, and they all talked of the great ball which was to take place in
the house in a week. The first after the period of the deep mourning.

"We cannot yet wear colors, but whites and grays and mauves--and won't
it be a relief from all this black," Princess Sonia said.

When they had all gone and Tamara was dressing for dinner, she felt
decidedly less depressed. She had succeeded better than she had hoped.
She had contrived to outwit the Prince, when he had plainly shown his
intention was to continue talking to her, she had turned from one to
another, and finally sat down by a handsome Chevalier Garde. In
companies she had a chance, but when they were alone!--however, that
was simple, because she must arrange that they should never be alone.