The Count bowed profoundly.

“Yes, sir, I believe, and my son believes, you to be a white man, even though you are a Count.”

“That is so,” said Ri.

“Now, sir, you must be aware—­in fact, you are aware—­of the matrimonial project once entertained between my daughter and Lord Tulliwuddle.”

“Once!” exclaimed the Count in protest.

“Once!” echoed Ri in his deepest voice.

“Hish, Ri!  Let your poppa do the talking this time,” said the millionaire sternly, though with an indulgent eye.

“But—­er—­once?” repeated the Count, as if bewildered by the past tense implied; though to himself he murmured—­“I knew it!”

“When I gave my sanction to Lord Tulliwuddle’s proposition, I did so under the impression that I was doing a deal with a man, sir, of integrity and honor.  But what do I find?”

“Yes, what?” thundered Ri.

“I find, sir, that his darned my-lordship—­and be damned to his titles——­”

“Mr. Maddison!” expostulated the Count gently.

“I find, Count, I find that Lord Tulliwuddle, under pretext of paying my Eleanor a compliment, has provided an entertainment—­a musical and athletic entertainment—­ for another woman!”

The Count sprang to his feet.

“Impossible!” he cried.

“It is true!”

“Name her!”

“She answers, sir, to the plebeian cognomen of Gallosh.”

“A nobody!” sneered Ri.

“In trade!” added his father scornfully.

Had the occasion been more propitious, the Count could scarcely have refrained from commenting upon this remarkably republican criticism; but, as it was, he deemed it more advisable to hunt with the hounds.

“That canaille!” he shouted.  “Ha, ha!  Lord
Tulliwuddle would never so far demean himself!”

“I have it from old Gallosh himself,” declared Mr. Maddison.

“And that girl Gallosh told Eleanor the same,” added Ri.

“Pooh!” cried the Count.  “A mere invention.”

“You are certain, sir, that Lord Tulliwuddle gave them no grounds whatever for supposing such a thing?”

“I pledge my reputation as Count of the Austrian Empire, that if my friend be indeed a Tulliwuddle he is faithful to your charming daughter!”

Father and son looked at him shrewdly.

“Being a Tulliwuddle, or any other sort of pampered aristocrat, doesn’t altogether guarantee faithfulness,” observed the Silver King.

“If he has deceived you, he shall answer to me!” declared the Count.  “And between ourselves, as nature’s gentleman to nature’s gentleman, you may assure Miss Maddison that there is not the remotest likelihood of this scheming Miss Gallosh ever becoming my friend’s bride!”

The two Dariuses were sensibly affected by this assurance.

“As nature’s gentleman to nature’s gentleman!” repeated the elder with unction, wringing his hand.