“Pardon me for suggesting it, Madam,” the ambassador persisted courteously, “but anything out of the usual attracts attention in Washington.  I dare say, from the manner of your appearance to-night, that you would not care to attract attention to yourself.”

She regarded him with an enigmatic smile.

“I’m afraid you don’t know women, Count,” she said slowly, at last.  “There’s nothing dearer to a woman’s heart than to attract attention to herself.”  She laughed—­a throaty, silvery note that was charming.  “And if you hesitate now, then to-morrow—­why, to-morrow I am going to ask that you open to me all this Washington world—­this brilliant world of diplomatic society.  You see what I ask now is simple.”

The ambassador was respectfully silent and deeply thoughtful for a time.  There was, perhaps, something of resentment struggling within him, and certainly there was an uneasy feeling of rebellion at this attempt to thrust him forward against all precedent.

“Your requests are of so extraordinary a nature that—­” he began in courteous protestation.

There was no trace of impatience in the woman’s manner; she was still smiling.

“It is necessary that I attend the ball to-night,” she explained, “you may imagine how necessary when I say I sailed from Liverpool six days ago, reaching New York at half-past three o’clock this afternoon; and at half-past four I was on my way here.  I have been here less than one hour.  I came from Liverpool especially that I might be present; and I even dressed on the train so there would be no delay.  Now do you see the necessity of it?”

Diplomatic procedure is along well-oiled grooves, and the diplomatist who steps out of the rut for an instant happens upon strange and unexpected obstacles.  Knowing this, the ambassador still hesitated.  The woman apparently understood.

“I had hoped that this would not be necessary,” she remarked, and she produced a small, sealed envelope.  “Please read it.”

The ambassador received the envelope with uplifted brows, opened it and read what was written on a folded sheet of paper.  Some subtle working of his brain brought a sudden change in the expression of his face.  There was wonder in it, and amazement, and more than these.  Again he bowed low.

“I am at your service, Madam,” he repeated.  “I shall take pleasure in making any arrangements that are necessary.  Again, I beg your pardon.”

“And it will not be so very difficult, after all, will it?” she inquired, and she smiled tauntingly.

“It will not be at all difficult, Madam,” the ambassador assured her gravely.  “I shall take steps at once to have an invitation issued to you for to-night; and to-morrow I shall be pleased to proceed as you may suggest.”

She nodded.  He folded the note, replaced it in the envelope and returned it to her with another deep bow.  She drew her skirts about her and sat down; he stood.