"If you would really like to see me," she whispered, "and if you are sure that Mademoiselle Celaire would not object, could you not ask me to tea to-morrow or the next day?" "To-morrow," Peter insisted, with a becoming show of eagerness. "Shall we say at the Carlton at five?" She hesitated. "Isn't that rather a public place?" she objected. "Anywhere else you like." She was silent for a moment. She seemed to be waiting for some suggestion from him. None came. "The Carlton at five," she murmured. "I am angry with Andrea. I feel, even, that I could break his wonderful violin in two!" Peter sighed once more. "I should like to twist von Hern's neck!" he declared. "Lucky for him that he's in St. Petersburg! Let us forget this unpleasant matter, mademoiselle. The evening has been too delightful for such memories." Mademoiselle Celaire turned to her escort as soon as they were alone in the car. "As an escort, let me tell you, my dear Baron," she exclaimed, with some pique, "that you are a miserable failure! For the rest----" "For the rest, I will admit that I am puzzled," Peter said. "I need to think. I have the glimmerings of an idea--no more." "You will act? It is an affair for us--for the Double Four?" "Without a doubt--an affair and a serious one," Peter assured her. "I shall act. Exactly how I cannot say until after to-morrow." "To-morrow?" she repeated. "Mademoiselle Korust takes tea with me," he explained. * * * * * In a quiet sort of way, the series of supper parties given by Andrea Korust became the talk of London. The most famous dancer in the world broke through her unvarying rule, and night after night thrilled the distinguished little gathering. An opera singer, the "star" of the season, sang; a great genius recited; and Andrea himself gave always of his best. Apart from this wonderful outpouring of talent, Andrea Korust himself seemed to possess the peculiar art of bringing into touch with one another people naturally interested in the same subjects. On the night after the visit of Peter, Baron de Grost, His Grace the Duke of Rosshire was present, the man in whose hands lay the destinies of the British Navy; and, curiously enough, on the same night, a great French writer on naval subjects was present, whom the Duke had never met, and with whom he was delighted to talk for some time apart. On another occasion, the Military Secretary to the French Embassy was able to have a long and instructive chat with a distinguished English general on the subject of the recent manœuvres, and the latter received, in the strictest confidence, some very interesting information concerning the new type of French guns. On the following evening the greatest of our Colonial statesmen, a red-hot Imperialist, was able to chat about the resources of the Empire with an English politician of similar views, whom he chanced never to have previously met. Altogether these parties