smartly tailored in clothes of brown leather
mixture. She wore thick shoes and gaiters and a small hat. She was
looking very well but a little annoyed.

"I hear," she said, "that Stephanie is coming to-day."

Dominey nodded, and seemed for a moment intent on watching the flight of
a pigeon which kept tantalisingly out of range.

"She is coming down for a few days," he assented. "I am afraid that she
will be bored to death."

"Where did you become so friendly with her?" his cousin asked curiously.

"The first time we ever met," Dominey replied, "was in the Carlton grill
room, a few days after I landed in England. She mistook me for some one
else, and we parted with the usual apologies. I met her the same night
at Carlton House Terrace--she is related to the Terniloffs--and we came
across one another pretty often after that, during the short time I was
in town."

"Yes," the Duchess murmured meditatively. "That is another of the little
surprises you seem to have all ready dished up for us. How on earth did
you become so friendly with the German Ambassador?"

Dominey smiled tolerantly.

"Really," he replied, "there is not anything so very extraordinary about
it, is there? Mr. Seaman, my partner in one or two mining enterprises,
took me to call upon him. He is very interested in East Africa,
politically and as a sportsman. Our conversations seemed to interest
him and led to a certain intimacy--of which I may say that I am proud. I
have the greatest respect and liking for the Prince."

"So have I," Caroline agreed. "I think he's charming. Henry declares
that he must be either a fool or a knave."

"Henry is blinded by prejudice," Dominey declared a little impatiently.
"He cannot imagine a German who feasts with any one else but the devil."

"Don't get annoyed, dear," she begged, resting her fingers for a moment
upon his coat sleeve. "I admire the Prince immensely. He is absolutely
the only German I ever met whom one felt instinctively to be a
gentleman.--Now what are you smiling at?"

Dominey turned a perfectly serious face towards her. "Not guilty," he
pleaded.

"I saw you smile."

"It was just a quaint thought. You are rather sweeping, are you not,
Caroline?"

"I'm generally right," she declared.--"To return to the subject of
Stephanie."

"Well?"

"Do you know whom she mistook you for in the Carlton grill room?"

"Tell me?" he answered evasively.

"She mistook you for a Baron Leopold Von Ragastein,"