It was neatly done, and Mrs. Merton at once replied: "I wish to say for myself that I have for years desired to talk freely with you of what is no doubt in your mind just now."
"Thank you," he returned; "and if no one else objects,"--and no one did,--"I may say that, apart from my own eager desire to ask you certain questions, my wife has had, for years, what I may call chronic curiosity."
"Oh, at times acute!" cried the countess.
"Her curiosity is, as you must know, in regard to certain matters connected with that mysterious diplomatic affair in the autumn of 1862. It cost me pretty dear."
"And me," said the countess, "many tears."
Mrs. Merton's face became serious. She was about to speak, when the count added: "Pardon me. I am most sincere in my own wish not to embarrass you, our guests, and if, on reflection, you feel that our very natural curiosity ought to die a natural death, we will dismiss the matter. Tell me, would you prefer to drop it?"
"Oh, no. I, too, am curious." And, turning to her husband, "Arthur, I am sure you will be as well pleased as I."
Merton said: "I am entirely at your service, count. How is it, Greville?"
"But," said the count, interposing, "what has M. Greville to do with it, except as we know that his legation profited by madame's--may I say--interference?"
"I like that," laughed Mrs. Merton, "interference. There is nothing so amiable as the charity of time."
"Ah," said I, laughing, "I, too, had a trifling share in the business. Let us all agree to be frank and to consider as confidential for some years to come what we hear. I am as curious as the countess."
"And no wonder," said the count. "Of course enough got out to make every _chancellerie_ in Europe wonder how Mr. Adams was able to report the opinions and even the words of the emperor and his foreign secretary to Lord John."
"Well," said Mrs. Merton, "I am still faintly penitent, but this is a delightful inquisition. Pray go on. I shall be frank."
"To begin with, I may presume that you took those papers."
"Oh, madame! Why did you not take them at once to Mr. Dayton?"
"I was too scared. I was alarmed when I saw the emperor's handwriting. Was he cross?"
"Oh, I had later a bad quarter of an hour."
"I am sorry. And now you are quite free to tell me next--that I--well, fibbed to you. I did. But lying is not forbidden in the decalogue."