His lordship smiled affably upon both, murmured something incoherent, and passed on hastily towards the scarlet parasol of Eleanor.  But he had no sooner reached it than he paused and would have turned had she not seen him, for under a blue parasol beside her he espied, too late, the fair face of Eva, and too clearly perceived that the happy maidens had been comparing notes, with the result that neither looked very happy now.

“I hope you do enjoy ze sports,” he began, endeavoring to distribute this wish as equally as possible.

“Miss Gallosh has been remarkably fortunate in her weather,” said Eleanor, and therewith gave him an uninterrupted view of her sunshade.

“Miss Maddison has seen you to great advantage, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said Eva, affording him the next instant a similar prospect of silk.

The unfortunate chief recoiled from this ungrateful reception of his kindness.  Only one refuge, one mediator, he instinctively looked for; but where could the Count have gone?

“Himmel!  Has he deserted me?” he muttered, frantically elbowing his way in search of him.

But this once it happened that the Count was engaged upon business of his own.  Strolling outside the ring of spectators, with a view to enjoying a cigar and a little relaxation from the anxieties of stage-management, his attention had been arrested in a singular and flattering way.  At that place where he happened to be passing stood an open carriage containing a girl and an older lady, evidently guests from the neighborhood personally unknown to his lordship, and just as he went by he heard pronounced in a thrilling whisper—­“That must be Count Bunker!”

The Count was too well-bred to turn at once, but it is hardly necessary to say that a few moments later he casually repassed the carriage; nor will it astonish any who have been kind enough to follow his previous career with some degree of attention to learn that when opposite the ladies he paused, looked from them to the enclosure and back again, and presently raising his feathered bonnet, said in the most ingratiating tones—­

“Pardon me, but I am requested by Lord Tulliwuddle to show any attention I can to the comfort of his guests.  Can you see well from where you are?”

The younger lady with an eager air assured him that they saw perfectly, and even in the course of the three or four sentences she spoke he was able to come to several conclusions regarding her:  that her companion was in a subsidiary and doubtless salaried position; that she herself was decidedly attractive to look upon; that her voice had spoken the whispered words; and that her present animated air might safely be attributed rather to the fact that she addressed Count Bunker than to the subject-matter of her reply.

No one possessed in a higher degree than the Count the nice art of erecting a whole conversation upon the foundation of the lightest phrase.  He contrived a reply to the lady’s answer, was able to put the most natural question next, to follow that with a happy stroke of wit, and within three minutes to make it seem the most obvious thing in the world that he should be saying