"You lazy child!" Millicent Hardcastle said. "To sleep all day like
this! It has been quite beautiful since luncheon, and I have had a most
agreeable time. That extremely polite nice young Russian Prince we met
at the Khedive's ball is here, dear; indeed, that is his chair next
you. He is with Stephen Strong. We have been talking for hours."

Tamara felt suddenly almost cold.

"I never saw him in the train or coming on board," she said, with
almost a gasp.

"Nor did I, and yet he must have been just behind us. Our places at
meals are next him, too. So fortunate he was introduced, because one
could not talk to a strange man, even on a boat. I never can understand
those people who pick up acquaintances promiscuously; can you, dear?"

"No," said Tamara, feebly.

She was pondering what to do. She could not decline to know the Prince
without making some explanation to Millicent. She also could not
flatter him so much. She must just be icily cold, and if he should be
further impertinent she could remain in her cabin.

But what an annoying contretemps! And she had thought she should never
see him again!--and here until Wednesday afternoon, she would be
constantly reminded of the most disgraceful incident in her career. All
brought upon herself, too, by her own action in having lapsed from the
rigid rules in which Aunt Clara had brought her up.