war, when one used to move from country
to country."

"Diplomatic type of features," the General remarked, who hated all
foreigners. "It's rather bad luck on them," he went on, with bland
insularity, "that the men of the European neutrals--Dutch, Danish,
Norwegians or Swedes--all resemble Germans so much more than
Englishmen."

The Baron turned towards Catherine and ventured upon a whispered
compliment. She was wearing a wonderful pre-war dress of black velvet,
close-fitting yet nowhere cramping her naturally delightful figure. A
rope of pearls hung from her neck--her only ornament.

"It is permitted, Countess, to express one's appreciation of your
toilette?" he ventured.

"In England it is not usual," she reminded him, with a smile, "but as
you are such an old friend of the family, we will call it permissible.
It is, as a matter of fact, the last gown I had from Paris. Nowadays,
one thinks of other things."

"You are one of the few women," he observed, "who mix in the great
affairs and yet remain intensely feminine."

"Just now," she sighed, "the great affairs do not please me."

"Yet they are interesting," he replied. "The atmosphere at the present
moment is electric, charged with all manner of strange possibilities.
But we talk too seriously. Will you not let me know the names of some of
your guests? With General Crossley I am already acquainted."

"They really don't count for very much," she said, a little carelessly.
"This is entirely aunt's Friday night gathering, and they are all her
friends. That is Lady Maltenby opposite you, and her husband on the
other side of my aunt."

"Maltenby," he repeated. "Ah, yes! There is one son a Brigadier, is
there not? And another one sees sometimes about town--a Mr. Julian
Orden."

"He is the youngest son."

"Am I exceeding the privileges of friendship, Countess," the Baron
continued, "if I enquire whether there was not a rumour of an engagement
between yourself and Mr. Orden, a few days ago?"

"It is in the air," she admitted, "but at present nothing is settled.
Mr. Orden has peculiar habits. He disappeared from Society altogether, a
few days ago, and has only just returned."

"A censor, was he not?"

"Something of the sort," Catherine assented. "He went out to France,
though, and did extremely well. He lost his foot there."

"I have noticed that he uses a stick," the Baron remarked. "I always
find him a young man of pleasant and distinguished appearance."