"My dear," he said to his wife, "you will have to excuse me this afternoon. I have a caller whom I must see."
"Shall I wait for a few minutes?" she asked.
"Better not," he answered, "I imagine that I may be detained some time."
He took off his hat and coat, and made his way to the library, where Phineas Duge was awaiting him. The ambassador was a broad-minded man, loath to take sides unless he was compelled in the huge struggle, the coming of which he had prophesied years ago. He recognized in Phineas Duge one of the great powers at the back of the nation which he represented, and as a diplomatist he was fully prepared to receive him, and welcome him as one.
"I am very glad to see you again, Mr. Duge," he said, hospitably, extending his hand, "I hope that you have changed your mind, and are going to let us put you in the way of a few social amusements while you are over here."
"You are very kind," Duge answered, "but I think not. My visit here has to do with two matters only, to both of which I think I have already referred. You have heard nothing of my niece?"
"Nothing whatever, I am sorry to say," Mr. Deane answered.
"Well, there remains the other matter," Duge answered. "You and I have already had a few words concerning that, and I am pleased to see that up to the present, at any rate, our friend Mr. Vine has been governed by the dictates of common sense. Still, I think you can understand that so long as that paper exists the situation is an unpleasant one."
Mr. Deane inclined his head slowly.
"Without a doubt," he admitted, "it would be more comfortable for you and your friends to feel that the document in question was no longer in existence."