“I suspect he is the devil and all to have anything to do with at close quarters,” reflected Brancepeth, who was a very cautious young man. “And what a mess he’s made of his life, good Lord, with all his cleverness and position; why, a decent croupier’s a ten thousand times better fellow; he’ll rook you like winking if he can get you down at _écarté_.” “And she came over here to see you, I suppose,” inquired Brancepeth, still curious. “Scarcely,” said the Prince with a fleeting smile. “Would you--wouldn’t you give me a word of introduction?” said Brancepeth hurriedly and conscious of his own temerity. “To my daughter?” said the Prince blandly. “My dear lord, I should of course be delighted to do so--delighted; but I am not on speaking terms with her. I don’t call on her myself. How can I send anybody else to call?” “What did you quarrel about?” asked Harry bluntly. “Who was right?” Prince Khris looked at him with amusement; it was so droll to find people who asked questions like children instead of finding out things quietly for themselves. To his finer and more philosophic intelligence such a primitive question as right could not seriously affect anything. He thought the young Englishman a fool, an impertinent and dense fool; but he was never impatient of fools, they were too useful to him in the long run. What wise man would be able to play _écarté_ unless there were fools with whom to play it? “Of course the divorce was all Vanderlin’s fault!” said Brancepeth with clumsy curiosity. “It is always the man’s fault in such cases. That is well known.” Prince Khris smiled as he spoke; there was something sardonic and suggestive about the smile which made it almost a grin, and which seemed singularly ugly to Brancepeth considering that the person concerned was the grinner’s only daughter. No one could more completely or more cruelly have expressed the speaker’s conviction that Vanderlin was entirely blameless in this matter. Mouse listened in extreme irritation; it seemed to be beyond even her Harry’s usual obtuseness to continue the theme of a woman’s indiscretions to that woman’s own father. Besides, she hated women who were divorced: they made it so difficult and unpleasant for the wiser members of their sex. “My daughter seems to have impressed you, Lord Brancepeth,” continued the Prince. “Where is it that you have seen her?” “At the Oratory,” said Brancepeth, “and in the street. She is so awfully fetching, you know.” “She is a woman who makes people look at her,” replied Prince Khristof indifferently. “Did you hear her sing at the Oratory? She has a voice! ah, such a voice! the most flexible mezzo-soprano. She could have made her fortune on the stage.”