drinking beer in The Happy Heart,--but a dim recollection was beating in
the brain of Beatrice that she had seen something of importance in the
society news of a few days past. They searched the flat for every
newspaper, and at last found the sheet they wanted. Hope beating at the
doors, they scanned the column that Lionel never read, but that Beatrice
studied first. Yes! there it was--the justification of her memory for
seeming trivialities. "His excellency the Turkish ambassador has gone
for a few days' golf to Shereling." Beatrice threw the paper away in
flushed triumph, thought deeply for a few moments, and then said, "You
must go there. Mizzi may follow and try to succeed at Shereling. Watch
and do the best you can. I shall stay in London in case I am wrong, and
keep an eye on the embassy. If she is at Shereling, try to get the
treaty. I must leave you to work on your own lines. If I hear anything I
shall wire to the local inn. Will you?"

Of course he said, "Yes. Is there anything else?"

"Money. No--do not protest. This is life and death, and both cost
money." She ran to a little safe and returned, her hands full. "Here are
notes for a hundred pounds or more. You may have to bribe. Do not
refuse--it is for Lukos!"

Lionel longed to say, "Madam, my life and fortune are at your disposal.
Let there be no mention of money between us." But seeing that his stock
of ready cash had dwindled to twopence-halfpenny (he had bought a packet
of ten cigarettes the day before, and now cursed the extravagance), he
could only say, "As you will."

"Thank you," she said softly, and laid her hand on his head. He
thrilled, and she administered a necessary antidote. "It is for Lukos!"

"Oh, hang Lukos!" he groaned in spirit; and then in swift repentance his
thoughts mumbled, "No, no! Bless Lukos--dear old Lukos! Poor old chap!"

After this there had been nothing but idle conversation until the hour
of his departure approached. Once Beatrice fell into a fit of musing and
presently she said, "What a fool I was to tell Mizzi!" A younger man
might have said, "Not at all: it was perfectly natural." Lionel, older,
more self-reliant, and more honest, replied simply, "We all make
mistakes," for he thought her folly almost incredible. She felt
this--they were more than _sympathiques_--and said, "Ah! if you knew! I
was very lonely one night ... lonely and sad ... I had to talk to some
one, and believed her a true friend. You can imagine my