Miss Desborough had been steadily regarding herself in the glass to see if she had turned pale.  She had.  She set her teeth together until the color partly returned.  But she kept her face away from the maid.  “That’ll do,” she said quietly.  “You can tell me all later.  I have some important news myself, and I may not go out after all.  I want you to take a note for me.”  She went to her table, wrote a line in pencil, folded it, scribbled an address upon it, handed it to the girl, and gently pushed her from the room.

*****

The consul was lingering on the terrace beside one of the carriages; at a little distance a groom was holding the nervous thoroughbred of Lord Algernon’s dog-cart.  Suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder, and Miss Desborough’s maid put a note in his hand.  It contained only a line:—­

Please come and see me in the library, but without making any fuss about it—­at once.  S. D.

The consul glanced around him; no one had apparently noticed the incident.  He slipped back into the house and made his way to the library.  It was a long gallery; at the further end Miss Desborough stood cloaked, veiled, and coquettishly hatted.  She was looking very beautiful and animated.  “I want you to please do me a great favor,” she said, with an adorable smile, “as your own countrywoman, you know—­for the sake of Fourth of July and Pumpkin Pie and the Old Flag!  I don’t want to go to this circus to-day.  I am going to leave here to-night!  I am!  Honest Injin!  I want you to manage it.  I want you to say that as consul you’ve received important news for me:  the death of some relative, if you like; or better, something affecting my property, you know,” with a little satirical laugh.  “I guess that would fetch ’em!  So go at once.”

“But really, Miss Desborough, do let us talk this over before you decide!” implored the bewildered consul.  “Think what a disappointment to your host and these ladies.  Lord Algernon expects to drive you there; he is already waiting!  The party was got up for you!” Miss Desborough made a slight grimace.  “I mean you ought to sacrifice something—­but I trust there is really nothing serious—­to them!”

“If you do not speak to them, I will!” said Miss Desborough firmly.  “If you say what I tell you, it will come the more plausibly from you.  Come!  My mind is made up.  One of us must break the news!  Shall it be you or I?” She drew her cloak over her shoulders and made a step forwards.

The consul saw she was determined.  “Then wait here till I return, but keep yourself out of sight,” he said, and hurried away.  Between the library and the terrace he conceived a plan.  His perplexity lent him a seriousness which befitted the gravity of the news he had to disclose.  “I am sorry to have to tell you,” he said, taking Lord Beverdale aside, “that I was the unlucky bearer of some sad news to Miss Desborough this morning,