“I think, mamma, he did,” her daughter faltered.

“Ah!”

And there was a world of meaning in that comment.

“Believe me, mamma, it is something very, very important, or Rudolph would certainly have let me tell you all about it.”

Lady Grillyer opened her eyes still wider.

“Then I am to understand that he wishes to conceal from me anything that he considers of importance?”

“Oh, no!  Not that!  I only mean that this thing is very secret.”

“Alicia,” pronounced the Countess, “when a man specifically conceals anything from his mother-in-law, you may be quite certain that she ought to be informed of it at once.”

“I—­I can’t, mamma!”

“A trip to Germany—­for it is there, I presume, he has gone—­back to the scenes of his bachelorhood, unprotected by the influence of his wife!  Do you call that a becoming procedure?”

“But he hasn’t gone to Germany.”

“He has no business anywhere else!”

“You forget his diplomatic duties.”

“Ah!  He professes to have gone on diplomatic business?”

“Professes, mamma?” exclaimed the poor Baroness.  “How can you say such a thing!  He certainly has gone on a diplomatic mission!”

“To Paris, no doubt?” suggested Lady Grillyer, with an intonation that made it quite impossible not to contradict her.

“Certainly not!  He has gone to Russia.”

The more the Countess learned, the more anxious she appeared to grow.

“To Russia, on a diplomatic mission?  This is incredible, Alicia!”

“Why should it be incredible?” demanded Alicia, flushing.

“Because he is a mere tyro in diplomacy.  Because there is a German embassy at Petersburg, and they would not send a man from London on a mission—­at least, it is most unlikely.”

“It seems to me quite natural,” declared the Baroness.

She was showing more fight than her mother had ever encountered from her before, and the opposition seemed to inflame Lady Grillyer’s resentment against the unfilial couple.

“You know nothing about it!  What is this mission about?”

“That certainly is a secret,” said Alicia, relieved that there was something left to keep her promise over.

“Has he gone alone?”

“I—­I mustn’t tell you, mamma.”

Alicia’s face betrayed this subterfuge.

“You do not know yourself, Alicia,” said the Countess incisively.  “And so you need no longer pretend to be keeping a secret from me.  It now becomes our joint business to discover the actual truth.  Do not attempt to wrangle with me further!  This investigation is necessary for your peace of mind, dear.”

The unfortunate Baroness dropped a silent tear.  Her peace of mind had been serenely undisturbed till this moment, and now it was only broken by the thought of her husband’s displeasure should he ever learn how she had disobeyed his injunctions.  Further investigation was the very last thing to cure it, she said to herself bitterly.  She looked piteously at her parent, but there she only saw an expression of concentrated purpose.