Count Bunker Part 22
"Now I call that just a lovely metaphor, Count Bunker!" she cried.
"Oh, if he's going to look like a pine, and walk like the pipers at the Torrydhulish gathering, and really be a chief like Fergus MacIvor or Roderick Dhu, I do believe I'll actually fall in love with him!"
"Say, Count," interposed Ri, "I guess we've heard he's half German."
"It was indeed in Germany that he learned his thorough grasp of politics, statesmanship, business, and finance, and acquired his lofty ambitions and indomitable perseverance."
"He'll do, Eleanor," said the young man. "That's to say, if he is anything like the prospectus."
His sister made no immediate reply. She seemed to be musing--and not unpleasantly.
At that moment a motor car pa.s.sed the window.
"My!" exclaimed Eleanor, "I'd quite forgot! That will be to take the Honorable Stanley to the station. We must say good-by to him, I suppose."
She turned to the Count and added in explanation--
"The last to apply was the Honorable Stanley Pilkington--Lord Didcott's heir, you know. Oh, if you could see him, you'd realize what I've had to go through!"
Even as she spoke he was given the opportunity, for the door somewhat diffidently opened and an unhappy-looking young man came slowly into the room. He was clearly to be cla.s.sified among the round-shouldered ineligibles; being otherwise a tall and slender youth, with an amiable expression and a smoothly well-bred voice.
"I've come to say good-by, Miss Maddison," he said, with a mournful air.
"I--I've enjoyed my visit very much," he added, as he timidly shook her hand.
"So glad you have, Mr. Pilkington," she replied cordially. "It has been a very great pleasure to entertain you. Our friend Count Bunker--Mr.
Pilkington."
The young man bowed with a look in his eye that clearly said--
"The next candidate, I perceive."
Then having said good-by to Ri, the Count heard him murmur to Eleanor--
"Couldn't you--er--couldn't you just manage to see me off?"
"With very great pleasure!" she replied in a hearty voice that seemed curiously enough rather to damp than cheer his drooping spirits.
No sooner had they left the room together than Darius, junior, turned energetically to his guest, and said in a voice ringing with pride--
"You may not believe me, Count, but I a.s.sure you that is the third fellow she has seen to the door inside a fortnight! One Duke, one Viscount--who will expand into something more considerable some day--and this Honorable Pilkington! Your friend, sir, will be a fortunate man if he is able to please my sister."
"She seems, indeed, a charming girl."
"Charming! She is an angel in human form! And I, sir, her brother, will see to it that she is not deceived in the man she chooses--not if I can help it!"
The young man said this with such an air as Bunker supposed his forefathers to have worn when they hurled the tea into Boston harbor.
"I trust that Lord Tulliwuddle, at least, will not fall under your displeasure, sir," he replied with an air of sincere conviction that exactly echoed his thoughts.
"Oh, Ri!" cried Eleanor, running back into the room, "he was so sweet as he said good-by in the hall that I nearly kissed him! I would have, only it might have made him foolish again. But did you see his shoulders, Count! And oh, to think of marrying a gentle thing like that! Is Lord Tulliwuddle a firm man, Count Bunker?"
"Adamant--when in the right," the Count a.s.sured her.
A renewed air of happy musing in her eyes warned him that he had probably said exactly enough, and with the happiest mean betwixt deference and dignity he bade them farewell.
"Then, Count, we shall see you all to-morrow," said Eleanor as they parted. "Please tell your hosts that I am very greatly looking forward to the pleasure of knowing them. There is a Miss Gallosh, isn't there?"
The Count informed her that there was in fact such a lady.
"That is very good news for me! I need a girl friend very badly, Count; these proposals lose half their fun with only Ri to tell them to. I intend to make a confidante of Miss Gallosh on the spot!"
"H'm," thought the Count, as he drove away, "I wonder whether she will."
CHAPTER XVIII
As the plenipotentiary approached the Castle he was somewhat surprised to pa.s.s a dog-cart containing not only his fellow-guest, Mr.
Cromarty-Gow, but Mr. Gow's luggage also, and although he had hitherto taken no particular interest in that gentleman, yet being gifted with the true adventurer's instinct for promptly investigating any unusual circ.u.mstance, he sought his host as soon as he reached the house, with a view to putting a careless question or two. For no one, he felt sure, had been expected to leave for a few days to come.
"Yes," said Mr. Gallosh, "the young spark's off verra suddenly. We didn't expect him to be leaving before Tuesday. But--well, the fact is--umh'm--oh, it's nothing to speak off."
This reticence, however, was easily cajoled away by the insidious Count, and at last Mr. Gallosh frankly confided to him--
"Well, Count, between you and me he seems to have had a kind of fancy for my daughter Eva, and then his lordship coming--well, you'll see for yourself how it was."
"He considered his chances lessened?"
"He told Rentoul they were clean gone."
Count Bunker looked decidedly serious.
"The devil!" he reflected. "The Baron is exceeding his commission.
Tulliwuddle is a brisk young fellow, but to commit him to two marriages is neither Christian nor kind. And, without possessing the Baron's remarkable enthusiasm for the s.e.x, I feel sorry for whichever lady is not chosen to cut the cake."
He inquired for his friend, and was somewhat relieved to learn that though he had gone out on the loch with Miss Gallosh, they had been accompanied by her brothers and sisters.
"We still have half an hour before dressing," he said. "I shall stroll down and meet them."
His creditable anxiety returned when, upon the path to the loch sh.o.r.e, he met the two Masters and the two younger Misses Gallosh returning without their sister.
"Been in different boats, have you?" said he, after they had explained this curious circ.u.mstance; "well, I hope you all had a good sail."
To himself he uttered a less philosophical comment, and quickened his stride perceptibly. He reached the sh.o.r.e, but far or near was never a sign of boat upon the waters.
"Have they gone down!" he thought.
Just then he became aware of a sound arising from beneath the wooded bank a short distance away. It was evidently intended to be m.u.f.fled, but the Baron's lungs were powerful, and there was no mistaking his deep voice as he sang--