“How long do you expect the process will take you?”

For the first time the Baron noticed with surprise a shade of impatience in his friend’s voice.

“Are you in a horry, Bonker?”

“My dear Baron, I grudge no man his sport—­ particularly if he is careful to label it his duty.  But, to tell the truth, I have never played gamekeeper for so long before, and I begin to find that picking up your victims and carrying them after you in a bag is less exhilarating to-day than it was a week ago.  I wouldn’t curtail your pleasure for the world, my dear fellow!  But I do ask you to remember the poor keeper.”

“My dear friend,” said the Baron cordially, “I shall remember!  It shall take bot two or tree days to do my duty.  I shall not be long.”

“A day or two of sober duty,
Then, Hoch! for London, home, and beauty!”

trolled the Count pleasantly.

The Baron did not echo the “Hoch”; but after retaining his thoughtful expression for a few moments, a smile stole over his face, and he remarked in an absent voice—­

“Vun does not alvays need to go home to find beauty.”

“Yes,” said the Count, “I have always held it to be one of the advantages of travel that one learns to tolerate the inhabitants of other lands.”

CHAPTER XXIII

“Ach, you are onfair,” exclaimed the Baron.  “Really?” said Eva, with a sarcastic intonation he had not believed possible in so sweet a voice.

It was the day following the luncheon at Lincoln Lodge, and they were once more seated in the shady arbor:  this time the Count had guaranteed not only to leave them uninterrupted by his own presence, but to protect the garden from all other intruders.  Everything, in fact, had presaged the pleasantest of tete-a-tetes.  But, alas! the Baron was learning that if Amaryllis pouts, the shadiest corner may prove too warm.  Why, he was asking himself, should she exhibit this incomprehensible annoyance?  What had he done?  How to awake her smiles again?

“I do not forget my old friends so quickly,” he protested.  “No, I do assure you!  I do not onderstand vy you should say so.”

“Oh, we don’t profess to be old friends, Lord Tulliwuddle!  After all, there is no reason why you shouldn’t turn your back on us as soon as you see a newer—­and more amusing—­acquaintance.”

“But I have not turned my back!”

“We saw nothing else all yesterday.”

“Ah, Mees Gallosh, zat is not true!  Often did I look at you!”

“Did you?  I had forgotten.  One doesn’t treasure every glance, you know.”

The Baron tugged at his mustache and frowned.

“She vill not do for Tollyvoddle,” he said to himself.

But the next instant a glance from Eva’s brilliant eyes—­a glance so reproachful, so appealing, and so stimulating, that there was no resisting it—­diverted his reflections into quite another channel.