me that he had learned
at Lucerne--and he felt himself murmuring something--what the words
were he scarcely knew.

Not by so much as the quiver of an eyelash did Mademoiselle give sign
of recognition, or memory of any previous meeting. She merely smiled
as she told Paul that her old friend the Countess had often spoken of
him.

His heart was athrob with curious emotions, when he heard the
Countess' voice:

"Come! we are going in. You two can become better acquainted at
table." And he felt his partner's arm rest lightly within his; its
merest touch electrified him.

"Damn the dinner!" Paul swore softly to himself, for he had no wish
to share his good fortune with a roomful of people.

To his great disgust, a silly ass of a young German _attache_, who sat
on the other side of Mademoiselle Vseslavitch, began talking with her
as soon as they had reached their places.

When Paul did have her to himself occasionally, she talked to him of
England, the last subject he was interested in then. Not for a minute
did she allow him an opportunity to lead her in the direction of
Langres or Lucerne.

"I have never been across the Channel," she told him. "But I have long
wished to go. You English are such a remarkable people--you are all so
sane and sensible compared with my own countrymen. What Russian can
talk with a woman for five minutes without making violent love to
her?--but you cold-blooded Anglo-Saxons are so refreshingly
different."

Paul did not see the mischievous merriment in the lady's eyes. And his
gallant answer was interrupted by some inanity from Herr von Mark.

If ever the Anglo-German diplomatic relations were in danger, an
observer would have promptly decided that they were at that instant.
That the conceited young German did not immediately expire was only
due to the fact that dagger glances cannot cause a fatal wound.

Paul tried to learn more about the lady. Was she to be long in Paris?
Really, she could not say. She liked the country so much more than the
town that it was always hard for her to stay many days away from the
open. She never knew when the whim might seize her to go--to get
aboard a train and hurry to some distant spot which she felt impelled
to visit. Who knew? To-morrow, perhaps, might find her on her way to
the chateau of a friend who lived in the Bukowina, near the foothills
of the Carpathian Mountains.

"Ah!"--and she turned to Paul with a radiant face that made him long
to catc