"That's what I call an ideal married couple," Kirk reflected—"complete understanding, absolute confidence." And the more he saw of them, the stronger this impression grew. Cortlandt was always attentive and courteous, without being demonstrative, while his wife showed a charming graciousness that was plainly unassumed. Their perfect good-breeding made the young man feel at ease; but though he endeavored to cultivate the husband on several occasions, he made little headway. The man evidently possessed a wide knowledge of current events, a keen understanding of men and things, yet he never opened up. He listened, smiled, spoke rarely, and continued to spend nine-tenths of his time in that isolated corner of the smoking-room, with no other company than a long glass and a siphon.
One day when Kirk had begun to feel that his acquaintance with Mrs.
Cortlandt was well established, he said to her:
"Stein told me to-day that your husband is in the diplomatic service."
"Yes," said she. "He was Consul-General to Colombia several years ago, and since then he has been to France and to Germany."
"I thought you were tourists—you have travelled so much."
"Most of our journeys have been made at the expense of the Government."
"Are you diplomatting now?"
"In a way. We shall be in Panama for some time."
"This Stein seems to be a nice fellow. He's taken quite a liking to me."
Mrs. Cortlandt laughed lightly. "That is part of his business."