“Well, this is not such a bad world, after all. To think of meeting you here in Russia! Have you been in St. Petersburg, then?”
“Yes. I am a newspaper woman,” explained Jennie hurriedly. “When you met me before, I was there surreptitiously—fraudulently, if you like; I was there to—to write a report of it for my paper. I can never thank you enough, Lord Donal, for your kindness to me that evening.”
“Your thanks are belated,” said the young man, with a visible attempt at gaiety. “You should have written and acknowledged the kindness you are good enough to say I rendered to you. You knew my address, and etiquette demanded that you should make your acknowledgments.”
“I was reluctant to write,” said Jennie, a smile hovering round her lips, “fearing my letter might act as a clue. I had no wish to interfere with the legitimate business of Mr. Cadbury Taylor.”
“Great heavens!” cried the young man, “how came you to know about that? But of course the Princess von Steinheimer told you of it. She wrote to me charging me with all sorts of wickedness for endeavouring to find you.”
“No, Lord Donal, I did not learn it from her. In fact, if you had opened the door of the inner room at Mr. Cadbury Taylor’s a little quicker, you would have come upon me, for I was the assistant who tried to persuade him that you really met the Princess von Steinheimer.”
Lord Donal, for the first time, laughed heartily.
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all! And I suppose Cadbury Taylor hasn’t the slightest suspicion that you are the person he was looking for?”
“No, not the slightest.”
“I say! that is the best joke I have heard in ten years,” said Lord Donal; and here, breakfast arriving, Jennie gave him his directions.