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Walter smiled warmly at the old woman. "Perhaps you will grant me the honor of the first dance, Lady Hermia?"
She was flattered. "Oh, my goodness, I'm too old for dancing. Besides, you youngsters have steps that didn't even exist when I was a debutante. "
"The latest craze is the czardas. It's a Hungarian folk dance. Perhaps I should teach you it. "
Fitz said: "Would that constitute a diplomatic incident, do you think?" It was not very funny, but everyone laughed, and the conversation turned to other trivial but safe subjects.
After dinner the party boarded carriages to drive the four hundred yards to Sussex House, the duke's palace in Park Lane.
Night had fallen, and light blazed from every window: the duchess had at last given in and installed electricity. Walter climbed the grand staircase and entered the first of three grand reception rooms. The orchestra was playing the most popular tune of recent years, "Alexander's Ragtime Band. " His left hand twitched: the syncopation was the crucial element.
He kept his promise and danced with Aunt Herm. He hoped she would have lots of partners: he wanted her to get tired and doze off in a side room, so that Maud would be left unchaperoned. He kept remembering what he and Maud had done in the library of this house a few weeks ago. His hands itched to touch her through that clinging dress.
But first he had work to do. He bowed to Aunt Herm, took a glass of pink champagne from a footman, and began to circulate. He moved through the Small Ballroom, the Salon, and the Large Ballroom, talking to the political and diplomatic guests. Every ambassador in London had been invited, and many had come, including Walter's boss, Prince Lichnowsky. Numerous members of Parliament were there. Most were Conservative, like the duchess, but there were some Liberals, including several government ministers. Robert was deep in conversation with Lord Remarc, a junior minister in the War Office. No Labour M. P. s were to be seen: the duchess considered herself an open-minded woman, but there were limits.
Walter learned that the Austrians had sent copies of their ultimatum to all the major embassies in Vienna. It would be cabled to London and translated overnight, and by morning everyone would know its contents. Most people were shocked by its demands, but no one knew what to do about it.
By one o'clock in the morning he had learned all he could, and he went to find Maud. He walked down the stairs and into the garden, where supper was laid out in a striped marquee. So much food was served in English high society! He found Maud toying with some grapes. Aunt Herm was happily nowhere to be seen.
Walter put his worries aside. "How can you English eat so much?" he said to Maud playfully. "Most of these people have had a hearty breakfast, a lunch of five or six courses, tea with sandwiches and cakes, and a dinner of at least eight courses. Do they now really need soup, stuffed quails, lobster, peaches, and ice cream?"
/> She laughed. "You think we're vulgar, don't you?"
He did not, but he teased her by pretending to. "Well, what culture do the English have?" He took her arm and, as if moving aimlessly, walked her out of the tent into the garden. The trees were decked with fairy lights that gave little illumination. On the winding paths between shrubs, a few other couples walked and talked, some holding hands discreetly in the gloom. Walter saw Robert with Lord Remarc again, and wondered if they, too, had found romance. "English composers?" he said, still teasing Maud. "Gilbert and Sullivan. Painters? While the French Impressionists were changing the way the world sees itself, the English were painting rosy-cheeked children playing with puppies. Opera? All Italian, when it's not German. Ballet? Russian. "
"And yet we rule half the world," she said with a mocking smile.
He took her in his arms. "And you can play ragtime. "
"It's easy, once you get the rhythm. "
"That's the part I find difficult. "
"You need lessons. "
He put his mouth to her ear and murmured: "Teach me, please?" The murmur turned to a groan as she kissed him, and after that they did not speak for some time.
{II}
That was in the small hours of Friday, July 24. On the following evening, when Walter attended another dinner and another ball, the rumor on everyone's lips was that the Serbians would concede every Austrian demand, except only for a request for clarification on points five and six. Surely, Walter thought elatedly, the Austrians could not reject such a cringing response? Unless, of course, they were determined to have a war regardless.
On his way home at daybreak on Saturday he stopped at the embassy to write a note about what he had learned during the evening. He was at his desk when the ambassador himself, Prince Lichnowsky, appeared in immaculate morning dress, carrying a gray top hat. Startled, Walter jumped to his feet, bowed, and said: "Good morning, Your Highness. "
"You're here very early, von Ulrich," said the ambassador. Then, noting Walter's evening dress, he said: "Or rather, very late. " He was handsome in a craggy way, with a big curved nose over his mustache.
"I was just writing you a short note on last night's gossip. Is there anything I can do for Your Highness?"
"I've been summoned by Sir Edward Grey. You can come with me and make notes, if you've got a different coat. "
Walter was elated. The British foreign secretary was one of the most powerful men on earth. Walter had met him, of course, in the small world of London diplomacy, but had never exchanged more than a few words with him. Now, at Lichnowsky's characteristically casual invitation, Walter was to be present at an informal meeting of two men who were deciding the fate of Europe. Gottfried von Kessel would be sick with envy, he thought.
He reproved himself for being petty. This could be a critical meeting. Unlike the Austrian emperor, Grey might not want war. Would this be about preventing it? Grey was hard to predict. Which way would he jump? If he was against war, Walter would seize any chance to help him.
He kept a frock coat on a hook behind his door for just such emergencies as this. He pulled off his evening tailcoat and buttoned the daytime coat over his white waistcoat. He picked up a notebook and left the building with the ambassador.
The two men walked across St. James's Park in the cool of the early morning. Walter told his boss the rumor about the Serbian reply. The ambassador had a rumor of his own to report. "Albert Ballin dined with Winston Churchill last night," he said. Ballin, a German shipping magnate, was close to the kaiser, despite being Jewish. Churchill was in charge of the Royal Navy. "I'd love to know what was said," Lichnowsky finished.
He obviously feared the kaiser was bypassing him and sending messages to the British via Ballin. "I'll try to find out," said Walter, pleased at the opportunity.
