“What a shame!” cried Eleanor, her eyes sparkling brightly.  “Lord Tulliwuddle, I am so sorry!”

The Baron looked into these eyes, and his own mien altered perceptibly.  For an instant he gazed, and then in a low voice remarked—­

“By ze Gad!”

“Once!” counted the conscientious Bunker.

“Lord Tulliwuddle,” she continued, “I declare I feel so ashamed of those stupid men, I could just wring their necks!  Now, just to make us quits, you ask me anything in the world you like!”

Over his shoulder the Baron threw a stealthy glance at his friend, but this time he did not invoke his assistance.  Instead, he again murmured very distinctly—­

“By ze Gad!”

“Twice!” counted Bunker.

“Miss Maddison,” said the Baron to the flushed and eager girl, “am I to onderstand zat you now are satisfied zat I am not too vicked, too suspeecious, too unvorthy of your charming society?  I do not say I am yet vorthy—­bot jost not too bad!”

Had the Baroness at that moment heard merely the intonation of his voice, she would undoubtedly have preferred a Chinese prison.

“Indeed, Lord Tulliwuddle, you may.”

“By ze Gad!” announced the Baron, in a voice braced with resolution.

“May I take the liberty of inspecting the aviary?” said the Count.

“With the very greatest pleasure,” replied the heiress kindly.

His last distinct impression as he withdrew was of the Baron giving his mustache a more formidable twirl.

“A very pretty little scene,” he reflected, as he strolled out in search of others.  “Though, hang me, I’m not sure if it ended in the right man leaving the stage!”

This “second-fiddle feeling,” as he styled it humorously to himself, was further increased by the demeanor of Miss Gallosh, to whom he now endeavored to make himself agreeable.  Though sharing the universal respect felt for the character and talents of the Count, she was evidently too perturbed at seeing him appear alone to appreciate his society as it deserved.  Ever since luncheon poor Eva’s heart had been sinking.  The beauty, the assurance, the cleverness, and the charm of the fabulously wealthy American heiress had filled her with vague misgivings even while the gentlemen were safely absent; but when Miss Maddison was summoned away, and her father and brother took her place, her uneasiness vastly increased.  Now here was the last buffer removed between the chieftain and her audacious rival (so she already counted her).  What drama could these mysterious movements have been leading to?

In vain did Count Bunker exercise his unique powers of conversation.  In vain did he discourse on the beauties of nature as displayed in the wooded valley and the towering hills, and the beauties of art as exhibited in the aviary and the new fir forest.  Eva’s thoughts were too much engrossed with the beauties of woman, and their dreadful consequences if improperly used.