“I am sorry to say that my orders were strictly to escort, not to herald you,” said the Count apologetically.

Fortifying himself against unpopularity by the consciousness that he was doing his duty, this well-principled, even if spurious, nobleman paced back towards the house with the lady between him and the indignant Baron.

“Well, Tulliwuddle,” he discoursed, in as friendly a tone as ever, “I left your cards with our American neighbors.”

“So?” muttered the Baron stolidly.

“They received me with open arms, and I have taken the liberty of accepting on behalf of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Gallosh, and of our two selves, a very cordial invitation to lunch with them to-morrow.”

“Impossible!” cried the Baron gruffly.

Eva turned a reproachful eye upon him.

“Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle!  I should so like to go.”

The Baron looked at her blankly.

“You vould!”

“I have heard they are such nice people, and have such a beautiful place!”

“I can confirm both statements,” said the Count heartily.

“Besides, papa and mamma would be very disappointed if we didn’t go.”

“Make it as you please,” said the Baron gloomily.

His unsuspicious hosts heard of the invitation with such outspoken pleasure that their honored guest could not well renew his protest.  He had to suffer the arrangement to be made; but that night when he and Bunker withdrew to their own room, the Count perceived the makings of an argumentative evening.

“Sometimes you interfere too moch,” the Baron began without preamble.

“Do you mind being a little more specific?” replied the Count with smiling composure.

“Zere vas no hurry to lonch mit Maddison.”

“I didn’t name the date.”

“You might have said next veek.”

“By next week Miss Maddison may be snapped up by some one else.”

“Zen vould Tollyvoddle be more lucky!  I have nearly got for him ze most charming girl, mit as moch money as he vants.  Ach, you do interfere!  You should gonsider ze happiness of Tollyvoddle.”

“That is the only consideration that affects yourself, Baron?”

“Of course!  I cannot marry more zan vonce.”  (Bunker thought he perceived a symptom of a sigh.) “And I most be faithful to Alicia.  I most!  Ach, yes, Bonker, do not fear for me!  I am so constant as—­ach, I most keep faithful!”

As he supplied this remarkable testimony to his own fidelity, the Baron paced the floor with an agitation that clearly showed how firmly his constancy was based.

Nevertheless the Count was smiling oddly at something he espied upon the mantelpiece, and stepping up to it he observed—­

“Here is a singular phenomenon—­a bunch of white heather that has got itself tied together with ribbon!”

The Baron started, and took the tiny bouquet from his hand, his eyes sparkling with delight.