t as
simple-minded as Terniloff. He looked after the retreating figure of the
Cabinet Minister with a slight smile at the corner of his lips.

"In a time like this," he remarked significantly, "one begins
to understand why one of our great writers--was it Bernhardi, I
wonder?--has written that no island could ever breed a race of
diplomatists."

"The seas which engirdle this island," the Ambassador said thoughtfully,
"have brought the English great weal, as they may bring to her much woe.
The too-nimble brain of the diplomat has its parallel of insincerity in
the people whose interests he seems to guard. I believe in the honesty
of the English politicians, I have placed that belief on record in the
small volume of memoirs which I shall presently entrust to you. But
we talk too seriously for a summer afternoon. Let us illustrate to the
world our opinion of the political situation and play another nine holes
at golf."

Dominey rose willingly to his feet, and the two men strolled away
towards the first tee.

"By the by," Terniloff asked, "what of our cheerful little friend
Seaman? He ought to be busy just now."

"Curiously enough, he is returning from Germany to-night," Dominey
announced. "I expect him at Berkeley square. He is coming direct to me."

CHAPTER XXVI

These were days, to all dwellers in London, of vivid impressions, of
poignant memories, reasserting themselves afterwards with a curious
sense of unreality, as though belonging to another set of days and
another world. Dominey long remembered his dinner that evening in the
sombre, handsomely furnished dining-room of his town house in Berkeley
Square. Although it lacked the splendid proportions of the banqueting
hall at Dominey, it was still a fine apartment, furnished in the
Georgian period, with some notable pictures upon the walls, and with a
wonderful ceiling and fireplace. Dominey and Rosamund dined alone, and
though the table had been reduced to its smallest proportions, the space
between them was yet considerable. As soon as Parkins had gravely put
the port upon the table, Rosamund rose to her feet and, instead of
leaving the room, pointed for the servant to place a chair for her by
Dominey's side.

"I shall be like your men friends, Everard," she declared, "when the
ladies have left, and draw up to your side. Now what do we do? Tell
stories? I promise you that I will be a wonderful listener."

"First of all you drink half a glass of this po