"My dear Miss Vandel," replied Hardress, "it is quite the other way about; it is I who have to thank you for the pleasure of giving you pleasure." "After that," laughed the marquise, turning her lovely eyes full on his, "let it never be said that an Englishman cannot turn a compliment." Chrysie noticed that Hardress flushed a little and dropped his eyes slightly under that bewildering glance, and she hated the marquise more intensely than ever. "It was no compliment, I can assure you," he said, looking up at Chrysie, "though what the marquise just said may have been. But, by the way, I came to tell you a rather serious piece of news, marquise; and something that may perhaps influence your aunt's plans." "Ah, what is that?" said Adelaide. "Well, from the telegram my father has just received, which will probably be in the papers to-night, there is going to be a tremendous military scandal in Germany, which may have very grave results indeed, even to the extent of an European war. The detectives of the military staff at Berlin have discovered a sort of Teutonic Dreyfus--a young fellow holding the rank of lieutenant, and employed as a sort of military under-secretary in the bureau of the Minister of War. To a certain extent it's the old story. He had ruined himself with gambling and horse-racing, and, not content with that, had got involved with a very pretty and equally unscrupulous French variety actress, who bled him with apparently more consistency than she loved him. The agents of the French secret service in Germany got hold of him and he sold himself.