“A fallacy?”

“You have come to the absolute conclusion,” Dominey continued, “that because England wants peace there will be peace.  I am of Seaman’s mind.  I believe in the ultimate power of the military party of Germany.  I believe that in time they will thrust their will upon the Kaiser, if he is not at the present moment secretly in league with them.  Therefore, I believe that there will be war.”

“If I shared that belief with you, my friend,” the Ambassador said quietly, “I should consider my position here one of dishonour.  My mandate is for peace, and my charge is from the Kaiser’s lips.”

Stephanie, with the air of one a little weary of the conversation, broke away from a distant group and came towards them.  Her beautiful eyes seemed tired, she moved listlessly, and she even spoke with less than her usual assurance.

“Am I disturbing a serious conversation?” she asked.  “Send me away if I am.”

“His Excellency and I,” Dominey observed, “have reached a cul-de-sac in our argument,—­the blank wall of good-natured but fundamental disagreement.”

“Then I shall claim you for a while,” Stephanie declared, taking Dominey’s arm.  “Lady Dominey has attracted all the men to her circle, and I am lonely.”

The Prince bowed.

“I deny the cul-de-sac,” he said, “but I yield our host!  I shall seek my opponent at billiards.”

He turned away and Stephanie sank into his vacant place.

“So you and my cousin,” she remarked, as she made room for Dominey to sit by her side, “have come to a disagreement.”

“Not an unfriendly one,” her host assured her.

“That I am sure of.  Maurice seems, indeed, to have taken a wonderful liking to you.  I cannot remember that you ever met before, except for that day or two in Saxony?”

“That is so.  The first time I exchanged any intimate conversation with the Prince was in London.  I have the utmost respect and regard for him, but I cannot help feeling that the pleasant intimacy to which he has admitted me is to a large extent owing to the desire of our friends in Berlin.  So far as I am concerned I have never met any one, of any nation, whose character I admire more.”

“Maurice lives his life loftily.  He is one of the few great aristocrats I have met who carries his nobility of birth into his simplest thought and action.  There is just one thing,” she added, “which would break his heart.”

“And that?”

“The subject upon which you two disagree—­a war between Germany and this country.”

“The Prince is an idealist,” Dominey said.  “Sometimes I wonder why he was sent here, why they did not send some one of a more intriguing character.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“You agree with that great Frenchman,” she observed, “that no ambassador can remain a gentleman—­politically.”

“Well, I have never been a diplomat, so I cannot say,” Dominey replied.