Nancy Dampier took a step forward. "Well?" she said eagerly, and then a
little shyly she uttered his name, "Well, Mr. Burton? What do they say? Did
my husband leave any message?"

"No, he doesn't seem to have done that." And then the Senator looked down
searchingly into the young Englishwoman's face. It was a very lovely face,
and just now the look of appeal, of surprise, in the blue eyes added a
touch of pathetic charm. He thought of the old expression, "Beauty in
distress."

His daughter broke in: "Why, Mrs. Dampier, do come upstairs and wait in our
sitting-room," she said cordially. "I'll come with you, for we were only
going out for a little stroll, weren't we, father?"

Nancy Dampier hesitated. She did not notice that the American Senator
omitted to endorse his daughter's invitation; she hesitated for a very
different reason: "You're very kind; but if I do that I shall have to tell
Madame Poulain, for it would give my husband a dreadful fright if he came
in and found I had left my room and disappeared"--she blushed and smiled
very prettily.

And again Senator Burton looked searchingly down into the lovely, flushed
little face; but the deep-blue, guileless-looking eyes met his questioning
gaze very frankly. He said slowly, "Very well, I will go and tell Madame
Poulain that you will be waiting up in our sitting-room,
Mrs.--ah--Dampier."

He went out across the courtyard again, and once more he seemed, at any
rate to his daughter, to stay away longer than was needed for the delivery