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At the head of the stairs she gave a little cry of surprise, for Paul Deulin was coming along the broad corridor towards her, swinging the key of his bedroom and nonchalantly humming an air from a recent comic opera. He was, it appeared, as much at home here as in London or Paris or New York.
"Ah! since you say so," returned Deulin, with a significant gesture, "yes." "Bon sang," said Cartoner, and did not trouble to complete the saying. "He is too much of a gentleman to herd with the extremists." But Deulin did not seem to be listening. He was following his own train of thought. "So you know of Kosmaroff?" he said, studying his companion's face. "You know that, too.
Deulin did not think it necessary to refer to the object of Cartoner's ride. Neither did he mention the fact that he knew that this was not the direct way to St. Petersburg. "I hired a horse and rode out to meet you," he said, gayly he was singularly gay this morning, and there was a light in his eye "to intercept you. Kosmaroff is back in Warsaw. I saw him in the streets and he saw me.
"Even the best people seem to lend their countenance to this," said Miss Mangles, in an undertone. "You are right, Jooly." But Miss Mangles did not hear. She was engaged in bowing to Paul Deulin, who was coming up the steps. She was rather glad to see him, for the feeling had come over her that she was quite unknown to all these people.
"I do not understand Mr. Deulin," said Netty to her uncle one day. "Why does he stay here? What is he doing here?" And Joseph P. Mangles merely stuck his chin forward, and said in his deepest tones: "You had better ask him!" "But he would not tell me." "No." "And Mr. Cartoner," continued Netty, "I understood he was coming back, but he does not seem to come. No one seems to know.
"No, she never mentioned your name. But, of course, I know it. It is better known out of England than in your own country, I fancy. Deulin you know Deulin? has spoken to us of you. No doubt we have dozens of other friends in common. We shall find them out in time. I am very glad to meet you. You say you know my name yes, I am Martin Bukaty.
Deulin was there, and yourself and the prince and we three and Mr. Cartoner." She looked round as she spoke for Cartoner, but only met Martin Bukaty's eyes fixed upon her with open admiration. When speaking she had much animation, and her eyes were bright. "I am sure you are here with your brother. The likeness is unmistakable.
Paul Deulin happened to be in Lady Orlay's drawing-room, nearly a month later, when Miss Cahere's name was announced. He made a grimace and stood his ground. Lady Orlay, it may be remembered, was one of those who attempt to keep their acquaintances in the right place that is to say, in the background of her life.
"It was like you, to come like that and take the risk," he said, "and say nothing." But Deulin stopped him with a quick touch on his arm. "As to that," he said, "silence, my friend. Wait. Thank me, if you will, five years hence ten years hence when the time comes. I will tell you then why I did it." "There can only be one reason why you did it," muttered the Englishman. "Can there?
Deulin glanced at the mirror over the mantel-piece, and if he had had any doubts they were now laid aside, for there was only gladness in Wanda's face. It was good news, then. And Deulin was clever enough to know the meaning of that. "Gone!" she said. "I am very glad." "Yes," answered Deulin, gravely, as he returned to his chair. "It is a good thing.
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