"Ah, it is indeed you, then!" she exclaimed, smiling at him.

He rose to his feet and came out. Tall, with a fair moustache and
blue eyes, he was often taken for an Englishman and was inclined to
be proud of the fact.

"You have rested well, I trust, Mademoiselle?" he asked, bowing low
over her fingers.

"Excellently," replied Louise. "Will you not take me in to luncheon?
The car is full of men and I am not comfortable alone. It is not
pleasant, either, to eat with one's maids."

"I am honored," he declared. "Will you permit me for one moment?"

He turned and spoke to his companions. Louise saw at once that they
were protesting vigorously. She saw, too, that Von Behrling only
became more obstinate and that he was very nearly angry. She moved
a few steps on down the corridor, and stood looking out of the
window. He joined her almost immediately.

"Come," he said, "they will be serving luncheon in five minutes.
We will go and take a good place."

"Your friends, I am afraid," she remarked, "did not like your
leaving them. They are not very gallant."

"To me it is indifferent," he answered, fiercely twirling his
moustache. "Streuss there is an old fool. He has always some
fancy in his brain."