Reginald in Russia | Page 4

Million.'"
"Only the old and the clergy of Established churches know how to be
flippant gracefully," commented Reginald; "which reminds me that in
the Anglican Church in a certain foreign capital, which shall be
nameless, I was present the other day when one of the junior chaplains
was preaching in aid of distressed somethings or other, and he brought
a really eloquent passage to a close with the remark, 'The tears of the
afflicted, to what shall I liken them--to diamonds?' The other junior
chaplain, who had been dozing out of professional jealousy, awoke
with a start and asked hurriedly, 'Shall I play to diamonds, partner?' It
didn't improve matters when the senior chaplain remarked dreamily but
with painful distinctness, 'Double diamonds.' Every one looked at the
preacher, half expecting him to redouble, but he contented himself with
scoring what points he could under the circumstances."
"You English are always so frivolous," said the Princess. "In Russia we
have too many troubles to permit of our being lighthearted."
Reginald gave a delicate shiver, such as an Italian greyhound might
give in contemplating the approach of an ice age of which he
personally disapproved, and resigned himself to the inevitable political
discussion.
"Nothing that you hear about us in England is true," was the Princess's
hopeful beginning.

"I always refused to learn Russian geography at school," observed
Reginald; "I was certain some of the names must be wrong."
"Everything is wrong with our system of government," continued the
Princess placidly. "The Bureaucrats think only of their pockets, and the
people are exploited and plundered in every direction, and everything is
mismanaged."
"With us," said Reginald, "a Cabinet usually gets the credit of being
depraved and worthless beyond the bounds of human conception by the
time it has been in office about four years."
"But if it is a bad Government you can turn it out at the elections,"
argued the Princess.
"As far as I remember, we generally do," said Reginald.
"But here it is dreadful, every one goes to such extremes. In England
you never go to extremes."
"We go to the Albert Hall," explained Reginald.
"There is always a see-saw with us between repression and violence,"
continued the Princess; "and the pity of it is the people are really not in
the least inclined to be anything but peaceable. Nowhere will you find
people more good-natured, or family circles where there is more
affection."
"There I agree with you," said Reginald. "I know a boy who lives
somewhere on the French Quay who is a case in point. His hair curls
naturally, especially on Sundays, and he plays bridge well, even for a
Russian, which is saying much. I don't think he has any other
accomplishments, but his family affection is really of a very high order.
When his maternal grandmother died he didn't go as far as to give up
bridge altogether, but he declared on nothing but black suits for the
next three months. That, I think, was really beautiful."
The Princess was not impressed.
"I think you must be very self-indulgent and live only for amusement,"
she said, "a life of pleasure-seeking and card-playing and dissipation
brings only dissatisfaction. You will find that out some day."
"Oh, I know it turns out that way sometimes," assented Reginald.
"Forbidden fizz is often the sweetest."
But the remark was wasted on the Princess, who preferred champagne
that had at least a suggestion of dissolved barley-sugar.
"I hope you will come and see me again," she said, in a tone that

prevented the hope from becoming too infectious; adding as a happy
afterthought, "you must come to stay with us in the country."
Her particular part of the country was a few hundred versts the other
side of Tamboff, with some fifteen miles of agrarian disturbance
between her and the nearest neighbour. Reginald felt that there is some
privacy which should be sacred from intrusion.

THE RETICENCE OF LADY ANNE

Egbert came into the large, dimly lit drawing-room with the air of a
man who is not certain whether he is entering a dovecote or a bomb
factory, and is prepared for either eventuality. The little domestic
quarrel over the luncheon-table had not been fought to a definite finish,
and the question was how far Lady Anne was in a mood to renew or
forgo hostilities. Her pose in the arm-chair by the tea-table was rather
elaborately rigid; in the gloom of a December afternoon Egbert's
pince-nez did not materially help him to discern the expression of her
face.
By way of breaking whatever ice might be floating on the surface he
made a remark about a dim religious light. He or Lady Anne were
accustomed to make that remark between 4.30 and 6 on winter and late
autumn