She struck a
match, lighted the card, and it crumbled up in her gloved hand. The last
tiny scrap found refuge in a silver tray, where she watched it burn to
ashes, then she turned to the ambassador with a brilliant smile. He was
still standing.
"The dinner isn't over yet?" she inquired.
"No, Madam, not for another hour, perhaps."
"Then there's no harm done," she went on lightly. "The dinner isn't of
any consequence, but I should like very much to attend the ball
afterward. Can you arrange it for me?"
"I don't know just how I would proceed, Madam," the ambassador objected
diffidently. "It would be rather unusual, difficult, I may say, and--"
"But surely you can arrange it some way?" she interrupted demurely. "The
highest diplomatic representative of a great nation should not find it
difficult to arrange so simple a matter as--as this?" She was smiling.
"Pardon me for suggesting it, Madam," the ambassador persisted
courteously, "but anything out of the usual attracts attention in
Washington. I dare say, from the manner of your appearance to-night,
that you would not care to attract attention to yourself.
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