entured a hesitating, drawling voice, which had earlier been
heard. "How can we take cognizance of private insult given by a
foreign power in only quasi-public capacity? I conceive it to be
somewhat difficult, no matter what the reception in the society of
Washington, to eject this woman from the city of Washington itself;
or at least, very likely difficult to keep her ejected, as you say,
sir."

"Where should she go?" demanded yet another voice. "And why should
she not come back?"

Impatiently, the leader replied: "Where? I do not know. I do not
_want_ to know. I _must_ not know! Good God, must we not bear
ourselves in mind?"

"Then, sir, in case of her sudden return, you ask an agent?" said a
keen, clear, and incisive voice, which had not yet been heard.
"Gentlemen, shall we cast lots for the honor of watching the
Countess St. Auban in case of her undesired return?"

The grim demand brought out a hasty protest from a timid soul: "To
that, I would not agree." A sort of shuffle, a stir, a shifting in
seats seemed to take place all about the table.

"Very well, then," went on the clear voice, "let us employ
euphemism in terms and softness in methods. If we may not again
kidnap the lady, why may we not bribe her?"

"It could not be done," broke in the dark man toward the head of
the table. "If I know the facts, this woman could not be bought
for any ransom. She has both station and wealth accorded her, so
the story goes, for some service of her family in the affairs of
France. But she will none of monarchies. She turned democrat,
revolutionist, in France, and on the hotter stage of Hungary--and
so finally sought this new world to conquer. She is no artless
miss, but a woman of the world, brilliant and daring, with ideas of
her own about a world-democracy. She is perhaps devout, or
penitent!"

"Nay, let us go softly," came the rejoinder from the shadows.
"Woman is man's monarch only part of the time. We need some man
who is a nice judge of psychological moments and nicely suited
methods. We stand, all of us, for the compromise of 1850. That
compromise is not yet complete. The question of this unwelcome
lady still remains to be adjusted. Were Mr. Clay not quite so old,
I might suggest his name for this last and most crucial endeavor of
a long and troublous life!"

"By the Eternal Jove!" broke in the dark man at the right, shaking
off the half-moodiness which had seemed to possess him. "When