“Guess you'll recognize your momma this time, Baron!”
A whistle from the guard, another from the engine, and they were off, clattering southward in the first of the morning sunshine.
Inadequately attired, damp, hungry, and divorced from tobacco as the Count was, he yet could say to himself with the sincerest honesty,
“I wouldn't change carriages with the Baron von Blitzenberg--not even for a pair of dry socks and a cigar! Alas, poor Rudolph! May this teach all young men a lesson in sobriety of conduct!”
For which moral reflection the historian feels it incumbent upon him, as a philosopher and serious psychologist, to express his conscientious admiration.
IT was an evening in early August, luminous and warm; the scene, a certain club now emptied of all but a sprinkling of its members; the festival, dinner; and the persons of the play, that gentleman lately known as Count Bunker and his friend the Baron von Blitzenberg. The Count was habited in tweeds; the Baron in evening dress.
“It vas good of you to come up to town jost to see me,” said the Baron.
The Baron smiled faintly. Evidently he was scarcely in his most florid humor.
“I vish I could have asked you to my club, Bonker.”
“Oh, no, no! But---- vell, ze fact is, it vould be reported by some one if I took you to ze Regents. Bonker, she does have me watched!”
The diplomatist gloomily sipped his wine.
“You did hush it all up, eh?” he inquired presently.
“Zank you. I vas so afraid of some scandal!”
“No--not very much; rather nice letters, in fact.”
“Ach, so! Vas zere any news of--ze Galloshes?”
“Yes, they seem very well. Old Rentoul has caught a salmon. Gallosh hopes to get a fair bag----”
“Bot did zey say nozing about--about Miss Eva?”
“The letter was written by her, you see.”
The Baron meditated for a minute and then inquired--
“Well, I gather that Mr. Maddison is erecting an ibis house in connection with the aviary. Ri has gone to Kamchatka, but hopes to be back by the 12th----”
“Eleanor--and also to you! Bot vy should she?”
The Baron shook his head solemnly. “No, Bonker, I cannot.”
For some moments he pondered over the remarkable conduct of these ladies; and then--
“Did you also hear of ze Wallingfords?” he asked.
“So! Humph, zey all seem fond of writing letters.”