ng man for a moment seemed puzzled. Then he glanced at a little
gold watch upon his wrist, knocked the cigarette from its holder and
carefully replaced the latter in its case.

"That is very interesting, Countess," he said. "For the moment I had
forgotten your official position amongst the English Socialists."

She leaned forward and touched his coat sleeve.

"You had forgotten nothing," she declared eagerly. "There is something
in your mind of which you have not spoken."

"No," he replied, "I have spoken a great deal of my mind--too much,
perhaps, considering that we are seated in this very fashionable lounge,
with many people around us. We must talk of these serious matters on
another occasion, Countess. I shall pay my respects to your aunt, if I
may, within the next few days."

"Why do you fence with me?" she persisted, drawing on her gloves. "You
and I both know, so far as regards those peace terms, that--"

"If we both know," he interrupted, "let us keep each our own knowledge.
Words are sometimes very, dangerous, and great events are looming.
So, Countess! You have perhaps a car, or may I have the pleasure of
escorting you to your destination?"

"I am going to Westminster," she told him, rising to her feet.

"In that case," he observed, as they made their way down the room,
"perhaps I had better not offer my escort, although I should very much
like to be there in person. You are amongst those to-day who will make
history."

"Come and see me soon," she begged, dropping her voice a little, "and I
will confide in you as much as I dare."

"It is tempting," he admitted, "I should like to know what passes at
that meeting."

"You can, if you will, dine with us to-morrow night," she invited, "at
half-past eight. My aunt will be delighted to see you. I forget whether
we have people coming or not, but you will be very welcome."

The young man bowed low as he handed his charge into a taxicab.

"Dear Countess," he murmured, "I shall be charmed."

CHAPTER XV

For a gathering of men upon whose decision hung such momentous
issues, the Council which met that evening at Westminster seemed alike
unambitious in tone and uninspired in appearance. Some short time was
spent in one of the anterooms, where Julian was introduced to many
of the delegates. The disclosure of his identity, although it aroused
immense interest, was scarcely an unmixed joy to the majority of them.
Those who were in earnest--and they mo