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“Is that all you wish to say? Why?” Their eyes met for a moment, and he seemed to have the best of it, for Helga added—

“I am engaged to marry M. Drexel, monsieur.” He smiled and rubbed his fat hands over his little triumph, and was so pleased with himself that my start of amazement escaped him.

“And I am of course pleased to know Helga’s friends.” He threw himself into a chair and continued to rub his podgy hands. If I had thought him a cad before, he was now positively hateful, and his vulgar assurance sickened me.

He took out a cigar, and as he turned away to light it I saw Helga wince, bite her lip, and clench her hands tightly. I could see that she was suffering; but this only added to my perplexity.

“So you are an American, M. Denver. A fine country yours; I was never there, but shall go some day.”

“I am sure America will appreciate the honour,” I said blandly. It was no concern of mine to conciliate the little cad; but he only chuckled.

“Good, very good. I suppose it did sound as if I thought I should be honouring the place. But I am content with Russia;” and he settled himself in his luxurious seat as if he were indeed very content. “I shall enjoy a talk with you about your American Government some day, M. Denver.”