She had kindled other fires at her side. The tall young Englishman had lost interest in American politics, had turned his back upon poor Alice Pomfret, and had forgotten the world in general. Not so the Austrian, who was on the other side of Alice, and who could not see Victoria. Mr. Crewe, by his manner and appearance, had impressed him as a person of importance, and he wanted to know more. Besides, he wished to improve his English, and Alice had been told to speak French to him. By a lucky chance, after several blind attempts, he awakened the interest of the personality. “I hear you are what they call reform in America?” This was not the question that opened the gates. “I don't care much for the word,” answered Mr. Crewe, shortly; “I prefer the word progressive.” Discourse on the word “progressive” by the Austrian almost a monologue. But he was far from being discouraged. “And Mrs. Pomfret tells me they play many detestable tricks on you--yes?” “Tricks!” exclaimed Mr. Crewe, the memory of many recent ones being fresh in his mind; “I should say so. Do you know what a caucus is?” “Caucus--caucus? It brings something to my head. Ah, I have seen a picture of it, in some English book. A very funny picture--it is in fun, yes?” “A picture?” said Mr. Crewe. “Impossible!” “But no,” said the Austrian, earnestly, with one finger to his temples. “It is a funny picture, I know. I cannot recall. But the word caucus I remember. That is a droll word.” “Perhaps, Baron,” said Victoria, who had been resisting an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh, “you have been reading 'Alice in Wonderland.'” The Englishman, Beatrice Chillingham, and some others (among whom were not Mr. Crewe and Mrs. Pomfret) gave way to an extremely pardonable mirth, in which the good-natured baron joined. “Ach!” he cried. “It is so, I have seen it in 'Alice in Wonderland.'” Here the puzzled expression returned to his face, “But they are birds, are they not?” Men whose minds are on serious things are impatient of levity, and Mr. Crewe looked at the baron: “No,” he said, “they are not birds.” This reply was the signal for more laughter. “A thousand pardons,” exclaimed the baron. “It is I who am so ignorant. You will excuse me--yes?” Mr. Crewe was mollified. The baron was a foreigner, he had been the object of laughter, and Mr. Crewe's chivalrous spirit resented it. “What we call a caucus in the towns of this State,” he said, “is a meeting of citizens of one party to determine who their candidates shall be. A caucus is a primary. There is a very loose primary law in this State, purposely kept loose by the politicians of the Northeastern Railroads, in order that they may play such tricks on decent men as they have been playing on me.” At this mention of the Northeastern Railroads the lady on Mr. Crewe's right, and some other guests, gave startled glances at Victoria. They observed with surprise that she seemed quite unmoved.