“Let us put them aside,” I said. “We are not rival diplomatists, but husband and wife; we—”
“Yes, yes,” she cried, interrupting. “I am happy because you are here with me; you, whose presence I have been fearing for so long. See! I smile and am happy;” and she gave vent to a hollow, discordant laugh.
“Happy because you have so successfully mystified me,” I sighed.
“No. Happy because I love you, Geoffrey,” she exclaimed, again throwing her arms affectionately about my neck, and raising her full red lips to mine. “Forgive me; do say you will forgive me,” she implored.
“How can I ever forget the ingenuity and deep cunning with which you deceived me,” I said. “I cannot but recollect how, on that night at Chesham House, Grodekoff congratulated you upon your marriage, yet how careful he was not to disclose to me your identity. Again, even my friend Verblioudovitch must have known who you really were. Why did he not tell me?”
“Because the staff of the Embassy had already received strict orders from St Petersburg not to acknowledge me,” she exclaimed, with a smile. “Lord Warnham fancied he recognised me, and spoke to the Ambassador; but the latter succeeded in assuring him that before marriage I was Ella Laing, and that the Grand Duchess Elizaveta Nicolayevna was at that moment with the Tzarina at Tzarskoïe-Selo. He believed it, and afterwards M’sieur Grodekoff assured me that was the first occasion he had been enabled to successfully deceive your lynx-eyed Foreign Minister.”
“You feared that the Earl might recognise you,” I exclaimed, surprised, for I now remembered the effect produced on my chief when his eyes had first fallen upon my wife. “You knew him, then?”
“Ah, no,” she faltered; “well, we were not exactly acquainted,” and she appeared rather confused, I thought, for her cheeks were suffused by the faintest suspicion of a blush.
“Did you expect he would be there?”
“No; you told me distinctly that he was not going, otherwise I should never have accompanied you,” she said frankly.