REGINALD IN RUSSIA by SAKI (H. H. MUNRO)

[obi/H.H.Munro/Reginald.in.Russia]
This text is in the Public Domain.

Text prepared in May 1993 by

  Anders Thulin
  ath@linkoping.trab.se

Reginald in Russia
The Reticence of Lady Anne
The Lost Sanjak
The Sex That Doesn't Shop
The Blood-Feud of Toad-Water
A Young Turkish Catastrophe
Judkin of the Parcels
Gabriel-Ernest
The Saint and the Goblin
The Soul of Laploshka
The Bag
The Strategist
Cross Currents
The Baker's Dozen
The Mouse

		     REGINALD IN RUSSIA

  Reginald sat in a corner of the Princess's salon and tried
to forgive the furniture, which started out with an obvious
intention of being Louis Quinze, but relapsed at frequent
intervals into Wilhelm II.

  He classified the Princess with that distinct type of
woman that looks as if it habitually went out to feed hens
in the rain.

  Her name was Olga; she kept what she hoped and believed to
be a fox-terrier, and professed what she thought were
Socialist opinions.  It is not necessary to be called Olga
if you are a Russian Princess; in fact, Reginald knew quite
a number who were called Vera; but the fox-terrier and the
Socialism are essential.

  ``The Countess Lomshen keeps a bull-dog,'' said the
Princess suddenly.  ``In England is it more chic to have a
bull-dog than a fox-terrier?''

  Reginald threw his mind back over the canine fashions of
the last ten years and gave an evasive answer.

  ``Do you think her handsome, the Countess Lomshen?'' asked
the Princess.

  Reginald thought the Countess's complexion suggested an
exclusive diet of macaroons and pale sherry.  He said so.

  ``But that cannot be possible,'' said the Princess
triumphantly; ``I've seen her eating fish-soup at Donon's.''

  The Princess always defended a friend's complexion if it
was really bad.  With her, as with a great many of her sex,
charity began at homeliness and did not generally progress
much farther.

  Reginald withdrew his macaroon and sherry theory, and
became interested in a case of miniatures.

  ``That?'' said the Princess; ``that is the old Princess
Lorikoff.  She lived in Millionaya Street, near the Winter
Palace, and was one of the Court ladies of the Old Russian
school.  Her knowledge of people and events was extremely
limited; but she used to patronize every one who came in
contact with her.  There was a story that when she died and
left the Millionaya for Heaven she addressed St.  Peter in
her formal staccato French: `Je suis la Princesse
Lor-i-koff.  Il me donne grand plaisir  faire votre
connaissance.  Je vous en prie me prsenter au Bon Dieu.'
St. Peter made the desired introduction, and the Princess
addressed le Bon Dieu: `Je suis la Princesse Lor-i-koff.  Il
me donne grand plaisir  faire votre connaissance.  On a
souvent parl de vous  l'glise de la rue
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
be contented himself with scoring what points he could under