The countess showed no vexation. “Isn’t she?” she asked. “Why not?” in German.
“She assuredly is. I wanted to see her in Joan of Arc, but my duties kept me here. Because,” in German, “I have convinced my government that this country is its best friend and have conveyed to it the assurance of the President that he will see that my countrymen in California receive all their treaty rights.” “You did not go either, Countess, did you?” in English.
“No! I was too busy. And your excellency!” She turned to the German ambassador. “What do you think of her?”
The German scowled. “I do not like her,” he sputtered; “but she has many friends. I suppose your ideas are fixed, Baron, and that no argument could possibly alter them.”
The Jap shook his head. “None!” he answered. “My opinion is absolutely fixed!”
“Then—But I am making an unconscionably long stay. I leave the Baron in your hands, countess. Perhaps you may persuade him.”
The countess smiled mysteriously. “Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps!”
That night Miss Byrd left the house and hurried down to Risdon’s office; and laid the story before him. When she got back she learned that the countess was suffering with a headache and had decided not to go out that night. The next day her maid reported that she was still feeling badly. That afternoon a doctor—the doctor attached to the German embassy—was called in. The countess, however, did not improve. She kept her room and begged to be excused from seeing any one—even Miss Pratt. It was not until five days later that Miss Byrd suspected that she was no longer in the house. But by that time the countess was three thousand miles away from Washington.