in seriousness which
had come over his own thoughts and which was reflected in the other's
tone. He shrugged his shoulders slightly and filled his glass with wine.

"Every man in the world is the better," he propounded, "for adding to
the circle of his acquaintances a beautiful woman."

"Sententious and a trifle inaccurate," the Prince objected, with a
sudden flash of his white teeth. "The beauty which is not for him has
been many a man's undoing. But seriously, my quarrel with Naida is one
of prejudice only. She is the confidante and the inspiration of
Matinsky, and though one realises, of course, that so long as there is a
Russian Republic there must be a Russian President, I suppose I should
scarcely be human if I did not hate him."

"Surely," Nigel queried, "she must be very much his junior?"

"Matinsky is forty-four," Karschoff said. "Naida is twenty-six or
twenty-seven. The disparity of years, you see, is not so great.
Matinsky, however, is married to an invalid wife, and concerning Naida I
have never heard one word of scandal. But this much is certain. Matinsky
has the blandest confidence in her judgment and discretion. She has
already been his unofficial ambassador in several capitals of Europe. I
am convinced that she is here with a purpose. But enough of my
country-people. We came here to be gay. Let us drink another bottle of
wine."

The joy of living seemed for a moment to reassert itself in Karschoff's
face. His momentary fierceness, reminiscent of his Tartar ancestry, had
passed, but it had left a shadow behind.

"At least one should be grateful," he conceded a moment later, "for the
distinction such a woman as Naida Karetsky brings into a room like this.
Our Bond Street lament finds its proof here. Except for their
clothes--so ill-worn, too, most of them--the women here remind one of
Blackpool, and their men of Huddersfield. I am inclined to wish that I
had taken you to Soho."

Nigel shook his head. His eyes had strayed to a distant corner of the
room, where Naida and her two companions were seated.

"We cannot escape anywhere," he declared, "from this overmastering wave
of mediocrity. A couple of generations and a little intermarriage may
put things right. A Chancellor of the Exchequer with genius, fifteen
years ago, might even have prevented it."

"You can claim, at any rate, a bloodless and unapparent revolution," the
Prince observed. "You chivied your aristocracy of birth out of existence
w