There was a stir in the house, and steps approaching in the hall. Lord Westfaling had returned, and was coming to the library. Mr. Berend released the hand he held, and Lady Anstiss turned in confusion to greet her father at the door.
"This is Mr. Berend, of the United States Embassy, father," she said. "He has brought a letter for you. It is there amongst your other ones."
She could not look at him; she was still in a tumult of indecision. Mr. Julius Berend had shaken hands with her father, apologising for his early call, and was saying to her—
"I am going to town this afternoon on business. May I call again at a more opportune moment on my return?"
She lifted her eyes to his, and he saw that he had won her.
"Yes," she said, simply; and with a bow he was gone.
"A nice-looking young fellow," commented her father, leisurely turning over his letters. "Son of Max Berend, I suppose. Very clever and smart, I am told."
"I told you you could not do better than pin your faith on Berend," said Sir Frederic Rawnsley to the United States Minister, a few days afterwards. "He managed that little affair for you very cleverly; and seems to be managing another little affair very cleverly, too."