“War is a very dangerous conflagration,” Norgate remarked.  “I cannot think of any experiment more hazardous.”

“It is no experiment,” Selingman declared.  “It is a certainty.  All that we do in my country, we do by what we call previously ascertained methods.  We test the ground in front of us before we plant our feet upon it.  We not only look into the future, but we stretch out our hands.  We make the doubtful places sure.  Our turn of mind is scientific.  Our road-making and our bridge-building, our empire-making and our diplomacy, they are all fashioned in the same manner.  If you could trust us, Mr. Norgate, if you could trust yourself to work for the good of both countries, we could make very good and profitable use of you during the next six months.  Would you like to hear more?”

“But I know nothing about crockery!”

“Would you like to hear more?” Selingman repeated.

“I think I should.”

“Very well, then,” Selingman proceeded.  “Tomorrow we will talk of it.  There are some ways in which you might be very useful, useful at the same time to your country and to ours.  Your position might be somewhat peculiar, but that you would be prepared for a short time to tolerate.”

“Peculiar in what respect?” Norgate asked.

Selingman held his glass of yellow wine up to the light and criticised it for a moment.  He set it down empty.

“Peculiar,” he explained, “inasmuch as you might seem to be working with Germany, whereas you were really England’s best friend.  But let us leave these details until to-morrow.  We have talked enough of serious matters.  I have a box at the Gaiety, and we must not be late—­also a supper party afterwards.  This is indeed a country for enjoyment.  To-morrow we speak of these things again.  You have seen our little German lady at the Gaiety?  You have heard her sing and watch her dance?  Well, to-night you shall meet her.”

“Rosa Morgen?” Norgate exclaimed.

Selingman nodded complacently.

“She sups with us,” he announced, “she and others.  That is why, when they spoke to me of going back for bridge to-night, I pretended that I did not hear.  Bridge is very good, but there are other things.  To-night I am in a frivolous vein.  I have many friends amongst the young ladies of the Gaiety.  You shall see how they will welcome me.”

“You seem to have found your way about over here,” Norgate remarked, as he lit a cigar and waited while his companion paid the bill.

“I am a citizen of the world,” Selingman admitted.  “I enjoy myself as I go, but I have my eyes always fixed upon the future.  I make many friends, and I do not lose them.  I set my face towards the pleasant places, and I keep it in that direction.  It is the cult of some to be miserable; it is mine to be happy.  The person who does most good in the world is the person who reflects the greatest amount of happiness.  Therefore, I am a philanthropist.  You shall learn from me, my young friend, how to banish some of that gloom from your face.  You shall learn how to find happiness.”