The secretary saluted and withdrew.

“Might not our friends the enemy have bribed someone to suppress Madame Durrand’s letter or wire?” Mrs. Clephane asked.

“Very possibly.  It is entirely likely that they wouldn’t be apt to stop with the accident.”

“You think they were responsible for Madame Durrand’s fall?” she exclaimed.

“Have you forgotten the man who jostled Madame Durrand?” the Marquis reminded.

“To be sure!  How stupid not to think of it.  You see, your Excellency, I am not accustomed to the ways of diplomacy and to assuming every one’s a rogue until he proves otherwise.”

“You have a poor opinion of diplomats!” he smiled.

“Not of diplomats, only of their professional ways.  And as they all have the same ways, it’s fair, I suppose, among one another.”

“Did you tell Monsieur Harleston your opinion of our vocation?” he asked.

“I did—­somewhat more emphatically.”

“And what, if you care to tell, did he say?”

“He quite agreed with me; he even went further.”

“Wise man, Harleston!” the Marquis chuckled.

“Implying that he was not sincere?”

The Marquis threw up his hands.  “Perish the thought!  I imply that he is a man of rare discrimination and admirable taste.”

“Now won’t you please tell me, your Excellency, if you credit, no, if you believe, my story—­and don’t be a diplomat for the telling.”

“My dear Madame Clephane, I do believe your tale—­it bears the impress of truth in what you’ve not done, as well as in what you’ve done.  Had you ever been in the service you would recognize my meaning.  That the abductors did not triumph was due first to their carelessness, and second to chance, in the person of Monsieur Harleston.  He plays the game; and is violating no rule of diplomacy by his course in the affair.  Indeed he would be recreant to his country’s service were he to do otherwise.  And France would infinitely prefer the United States to have the letter rather than Germany.  It’s unfortunate, but it’s not as unfortunate as it might be.”

“You make me feel much, oh, so much better!” Mrs. Clephane replied.  “I feared lest my blunder could never be forgiven nor forgotten; and that Madame Durrand would be held responsible and would never again be trusted.”

The Ambassador smiled and shook his head.  “I think you need not worry,” he replied.

“And I’m perfectly sure, your Excellency, that if the United States is neither directly or indirectly concerned in the matter of the letter, and if you were to submit a translation of the letter to prove it, Mr. Harleston will deliver to you the original.”

“Did Monsieur Harleston tell you so?” the Marquis smiled.

“No, oh, no!  I only thought that—­”

“—­in this one instance diplomats would trust each other?” he interjected.  “Alas, no!  Monsieur Harleston would only assume the translation to be false and given for the sole purpose of deception.  I should assume exactly the same, were our positions reversed.”