so charming that it almost made Archie in love with the outlay.  A female Russian spy too!  Sophie Gordeloup certainly retained but very few of the charms of womanhood, nor had her presence as a lady affected Archie with any special pleasure; but yet he felt infinitely more pleased with the affair than he would have been had she been a man spy.  The intrigue was deeper.  His sense of delight in the mysterious wickedness of the thing was enhanced by an additional spice.  It is not given to every man to employ the services of a political Russian lady-spy in his love-affairs!  As he thought of it in all its bearings, he felt that he was almost a Talleyrand, or, at any rate, a Palmerston.

Should he tell his brother?  If he could represent the matter in such a light to his brother as to induce Hugh to produce the funds for purchasing the spy’s services, the whole thing would be complete with a completeness that has rarely been equalled.  But he doubted.  Hugh was a hard man—­a hard, unimaginative man, and might possibly altogether refuse to believe in the Russian spy.  Hugh believed in little but what he himself saw, and usually kept a very firm grasp upon his money.

“That Madam Gordeloup is always with Julia,” Archie said, trying the way, as it were, before he told his plan.

“Of course she will help her brother’s views.”

“I’m not so sure of that.  Some of these foreign women ain’t like other women at all.  They go deeper—­a doosed sight deeper.”

“Into men’s pockets, you mean.”

“They play a deep game altogether.  What do you suppose she is, now?” This question Archie asked in a whisper, bending his head forward toward his brother, though there was no one else in the carriage with them.

“What she is?  A thief of some kind, probably.  I’ve no doubt she’s up to any roguery.”

“She’s a—­Russian spy.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that for the last dozen years.  All the ugly old Frenchwomen in London are Russian spies, according to what people say; but the Russians know how to use their money better than that.  If they employ spies, they employ people who can spy something.”

Archie felt this to be cruel—­very cruel, but he said nothing further about it.  His brother was stupid, pigheaded, obstinate, and quite unfitted by nature for affairs of intrigue.  It was, alas, certain that his brother would provide no money for such a purpose as that he now projected; but, thinking of this, he found some consolation in the reflection that Hugh would not be a participator with him in his great secret.  When he should have bought the Russian spy, he and Doodles would rejoice together in privacy without any third confederate.  Triumviri might be very well; Archie also had heard of triumviri; but two were company, and three were none.  Thus he consoled himself when his pigheaded brother expressed his disbelief in the Russian spy.