accepted a match from Norgate.

"So you are really back again!" she murmured. "It scarcely seems
possible."

"I am just beginning to realise it myself," he replied. "You haven't
altered, Bertha."

"My dear man," she protested, "you did not expect me to age in a month,
did you? It can scarcely be more than that since you left for Berlin. Are
you not back again sooner than you expected?"

Norgate nodded.

"Very much sooner," he admitted. "I came in for some unexpected
leave, which I haven't the slightest intention of spending abroad, so
here I am."

"Not, apparently, in love with Berlin," the lady, whose name was Mrs.
Paston Benedek, remarked.

Norgate's air of complete candour was very well assumed.

"I shall never be a success as a diplomatist," he confessed. "When I
dislike a place or a person, every one knows it. I hated Berlin. I hate
the thought of going back again."

The woman by his side smiled enigmatically.

"Perhaps," she murmured, "you may get an exchange."