There were many in Washington social circles who knew by sight or by reputation Josephine, Countess St. Auban, no longer than six months ago pronounced by one journal of the capital to be the most beautiful and the most dangerous woman in Washington.  Yet even the most hostile of these suddenly suspended judgment as they saw her advance met now by that of the old Hungarian general himself.  With the enthusiasm of a boy he fell upon her, both his hands extended.

“Countess—­my dear child—­at last you are here!” he exclaimed.  Taking her by the hand he led her back to the line of his official company, volleying rapid exclamations in his native tongue.  Eager groups fell into line near at hand, seeking to know what was toward.

“You left us!” at length exclaimed the old general, politely speaking in his best English, since these others were thus bound to hear.  “Where you had gone we did not know.  It was as though the heavens had opened.  See then, Sir,”—­he addressed the naval officer who stood near at hand—­“the Countess St. Auban was one of the most important members of our little company—­she was to come in advance of us, who also are in advance of a greater number.  For a time we heard from her, then all was silent!  She had disappeared!—­But now, at last, my dear Countess, you are here!  We shall succeed, it is certain; henceforth you will be of our party.  Is it not true?”

Political, social and journalistic Washington then and there begged a sudden though silent pardon of the Countess St. Auban.  A few journalists left the room quickly.  An attache of the Austrian legation also hurriedly took his leave.

“But where have you been, my dear?” again demanded General Zewlinski, his hand again affectionately grasping that of Josephine St. Auban.  “We have so missed you.”

“I have been visiting some of the more remote parts of this country,” replied she in even tones.

“So, then, you have not forgotten our mission from Hungary!  Well, now we shall surely have the invitation for our Kossuth to come?  Is it not true?”

“Assuredly, my dear General.  You will find this country eager to meet him.  But alas!  I fear that Kossuth himself will find problems also in this country.”

“Our own problem—­our cause, dear Countess?”

“Pardon, General, really it is also the cause of this country.  We think that in Hungary democracy is in peril.  It is not less so here.”

“But, my dear child, you would not cast doubt upon our plans,—­you have not become lukewarm to our cause so soon, my dear?”

“No, no, General.  But Europe does not understand America.  America does not understand herself.  I ask only that the great men of that country shall see the great problems of this.  There we could win freedom by sword and gun.  Here also that must yet be done.  The time for such means has not yet arrived.  Yet here also evil cries aloud.  Soon war must come, here also—­bloody war.  We ask funds for Hungary.  America soon will need funds for herself.”