"Don't I wish you were?" Cord Van Ingen looked across at her with smiling significant eyes, which brought a flush to her cheeks.
"No," he said softly, "I do not!"
The girl laughed at him and shrugged her round white shoulders.
"For a young diplomat, Cord, you are too obvious—too delightfully verdant. You should study indirection, subtlety, finesse—study Poltavo!"
At the name the boy's brow darkened.
"Study the devil!" he muttered under his breath.
"That too, for a diplomat, is necessary!" she murmured sweetly.
"He isn't coming here to-night?" Van Ingen asked in aggrieved tones.
The girl nodded, her eyes dancing with laughter.
"What you can see in that man, Doris," he protested, "passes me! I'll bet you anything you like that the fellow's a rogue! A smooth, soft-smiling rascal! Lady Dinsmore," he appealed to the older woman, "do you like him?"