“Just as they were in 1914,” Chalmers remarked significantly.

“More so,” Dorminster asserted.  “In those days we had our alarmists.  Nowadays, they too seem to have gone to sleep.  My uncle—­”

“Your uncle was an uncommonly shrewd man,” Chalmers interrupted.  “I was going to talk about him.”

“After lunch,” Nigel suggested, rising to his feet.  “Here come my cousin and some of her tennis friends.  Karschoff is lunching with us, too.  You know him, don’t you?  Come along and I’ll introduce you to the others.”

It was a very cheerful party who, after a few minutes under the trees, strolled into luncheon and took their places at the round table reserved for them at the end of the room.  Maggie at once took possession of Chalmers.

“I have been so anxious to meet you, Mr. Chalmers,” she said.  “They tell me that you represent the modern methods in American diplomacy, and that therefore you have been made first secretary over the heads of half a dozen of your seniors.  How they must dislike you, and how clever you must be!”

“I don’t know that I’m so much disliked,” the young man answered, with a twinkle in his eyes, “but I flatter myself that I have brought a new note into diplomacy.  I was always taught that there were thirty-seven different ways of telling a lie, which is to state a diplomatic fact.  I have swept them all away.  I tell the truth.”

“How daring,” Maggie murmured, “and how wonderfully original!  What should you say, now, if I asked you if my nose wanted powdering?”

“I should start by saying that the question was outside the sphere of my activities,” he decided.  “I should then proceed to add, as a private person, that a little dab on the left side would do it no harm.”

“I begin to believe,” she confessed, “that all I have heard of you is true.”

“Tell me exactly what you have heard,” he begged.  “Leave out everything that isn’t nice.  I thrive on praise and good reports.”

“To begin with, then, that you are an extraordinarily shrewd young man,” she replied, “that you speak seven languages perfectly and know your way about every capital of Europe, and that you have ideas of your own as to what is going to happen during the next six or seven years.”

“You’ve been moving in well-informed circles,” he admitted.  “Now shall I proceed to turn the tables upon you?”

“You can’t possibly know anything about me,” she declared confidently.

“I could tell you what I’ve discovered from personal observation,” he replied.

“That sounds like compliments or candour,” she murmured.  “I’m terrified of both.”

“Well, I guess I’m not out to frighten you,” he assured her.  “I’ll keep the secrets of my heart hidden—­until after luncheon, at any rate—–­and just ask you—­how you enjoyed your stay in Berlin?”

Maggie’s manner changed.  She lowered her voice.

“In Berlin?” she repeated.