“In what way?”

“Oh! there are ways,” Selingman declared.  “A little gentle smack like this,”—­his two hands came together with a crash which echoed through the room—­“a little smack from Germany would do the business.  People would open their eyes and begin to understand.  A Radical Government may fill your factories with orders and rob the rich to increase the prosperity of the poor, but it will not keep you a great nation amongst the others.”

Norgate nodded.

“You seem to have studied the question pretty closely,” he remarked.

“I study the subject closely,” Selingman went on, “because my interests are yours.  My profits are made in England.  I am German born, but I am English, too, in feeling.  To me the two nations are one.  We are of the same race.  That is why I am sorrowful when I see England slipping back.  That is why I would like to see her have just a little lesson.”

Selingman paused.  Norgate rose to his feet and stood on the hearthrug, with his elbow upon the mantelpiece.

“Twice we have come as far as that, Mr. Selingman,” he pointed out.  “England requires a little lesson.  You have something in your mind behind that, something which you are half inclined to say to me.  Isn’t that so?  Why not go on?”

“Because I am not sure of you,” Selingman confessed frankly.  “Because you might misunderstand what I say, and we should be friends no longer, and you would say silly things about me and my views.  Therefore, I like to keep you for a friend, and I go no further at present.  You say that you are a little angry with your country, but you Englishmen are so very prejudiced, so very quick to take offence, so very insular, if I may use the word.  I do not know how angry you are with your country.  I do not know if your mind is so big and broad that you would be willing to see her suffer a little for her greater good.  Ah, but the lady comes at last!”

Mrs. Benedek was accompanied by a tall, middle-aged man, of fair complexion, whom Selingman greeted with marked respect.  She turned to Norgate.

“Let me present you,” she said, “to Prince Edward of Lenemaur—­Mr. Francis Norgate.”

The two men shook hands.

“I played golf with you once at Woking,” Norgate reminded his new acquaintance.

“I not only remember it,” Prince Edward answered, “but I remember the result.  You beat me three up, and we were to have had a return, but you had to leave for Paris on the next day.”

“You will be able to have your return match now,” Mrs. Benedek observed.  “Mr. Norgate is going to be in England for some time.  Let us play bridge.  I have to leave early to-night—­I am dining out—­and I should like to make a little money.”

They strolled into the bridge-room.  Selingman hung behind with Norgate.

“Soon,” he suggested, “we must finish our talk, is it not so?  Dine with me to-night.  Mrs. Benedek has deserted me.  We will eat at the Milan Grill.  The cooking there is tolerable, and they have some Rhine wine—­but you shall taste it.”