And some faint line of thought, suggested perhaps by the last remark, made her glance in passing at Martin. It was so quick that only Martin saw it. At all events, Paul Deulin appeared to be looking rather vacantly in another direction. “I suppose Miss Mangles does all that when you are at home?” said Wanda, glancing towards the great woman, who was just out of ear-shot. “My dear Wanda,” put in Deulin, in a voice of gravest protest, “you surely do not expect that of a lady who housekeeps for all humanity. Miss Mangles is one of our leaders of thought. I saw her so described in a prominent journal of Smithville, Ohio. Miss Mangles, in her care for the world, has no time to think of an individual household.” “Besides,” said Netty, “we have no settled home in America. We live differently. We have not the comfort of European life.” And she gave a little sigh, looking wistfully across the plain. Martin noticed that she had a pretty profile, and the tenderest little droop of the lips. At this moment a race, the last on the card, put a stop to further conversation, and Netty refused, very properly, to deprive Martin of the use of his field-glasses. “I can see,” she said, in her confidential way, “well enough for myself with my own eyes.” And Martin looked into the eyes, so vaunted, with much interest. “I am sure,” she said to Wanda, when the race was over, “that I saw Mr. Cartoner a short time ago. Has he gone?” “I fancy he has,” was the reply. “He did not see us. And we quite forgot to tell him the number of our box. I only hope he was not offended. We saw a great deal of him on board. We crossed the Atlantic in the same ship, you know.” “Indeed!” “Yes. And one becomes so intimate on a voyage. It is quite ridiculous.” Deulin, leaning against the pillar at the back of the box, was thoughtfully twisting his grizzled mustache as he watched Netty. There was in his attitude some faint suggestion of an engineer who has set a machine in motion and is watching the result with a contemplative satisfaction. Martin was reluctantly making a move. One or two carriages were allowed to come to the gate of the lawn, and of these one was Prince Bukaty's. “Come, Wanda,” said Martin. “We must not keep him waiting. I can see him, with his two sticks, coming out of the club enclosure.” “I will go with you to make sure that he is none the worse,” said Deulin, “and then return to the assistance of these ladies.” He did not speak as they moved slowly through the crowd. Nor did he explain to Wanda why he had reintroduced Miss Cahere. He stood watching the carriages after they had gone. “The gods forbid,” he said, piously, to himself, “that I should attempt to interfere in the projects of Providence! But it is well that Wanda should know who are her friends and who her enemies. And I think she knows now, my shrewd princess.”