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.
"Is--is Miss Maddison still in the house?" she inquired, with an effort to put the question carelessly.
"I believe so," said the Count in his kindest voice.
"And--and--that isn't Lord Tulliwuddle with my father, is it?"
"I believe not," said the Count, still more sympathetically.
She could no longer withhold a sigh, and the Count tactfully turned the conversation to the symbolical eagle arrived that morning from Mr. Maddison's native State.
They had passed from the aviary to the flower garden, when at last they saw the Baron and Eleanor appear. She joined the rest of the party, while he, walking thoughtfully in search of his friend, advanced in their direction. He raised his eyes, and then, to complete Eva's concern, he started in evident embarrassment at discovering her there also. To do him justice, he quickly recovered his usual politeness. Yet she noticed that he detained the Count beside him and showed a curious tendency to discourse solely on the fine quality of the gravel and the advantages of having a brick facing to a garden wall.
"My lord," said Mr. Gallosh, approaching them, "would you be thinking of going soon? I've noticed Mr. Maddison's been taking out his watch verra frequently."
"Certainly, certainly!" cried my lord. "Oh, ve have finished all ve have come for."
Eva started, and even Mr. Gallosh looked a trifle perturbed.
"Yes," added the Count quickly, "we have a very good idea of the heating system employed. I quite agree with you: we can leave the rest to your engineer."
But even his readiness failed to efface the effects of his friend's unfortunate admission.
Farewells were said, the procession reformed, the pipers struck up, and amidst the heartiest expressions of pleasure from all, the chieftain and his friends marched off to the spot where (out of sight of Lincoln Lodge) the forethought of their manager had arranged that the carriages should be waiting.
"Well," said Bunker, when they found themselves in their room again, "what do you think of Miss Maddison?"
The Baron lit a cigar, gazed thoughtfully and with evident satisfaction at the daily deepening shade of tan upon his knees, and then answered slowly--"Vell, Bonker, she is not so bad."
"Ah," commented Bunker.
"Bot, Bonker, it is not vat I do think of her. Ach, no! It is not for mein own pleasure. Ach, nein!
How shall I do my duty to Tollyvoddle? Zat is vat I ask myself."
"And what answer do you generally return?"
"Ze answer I make is," said the Baron gravely and with the deliberation the point deserved--"Ze answer is zat I shall vait and gonsider vich lady is ze best for him."
"The means you employ will no doubt include a further short personal interview with each of them?"
"Vun short! Ach, Bonker, I most investigate mit carefulness. No, no; I most see zem more zan zat."
"How long do you expect the process will take you?"
For the first time the Baron noticed with surprise a shade of impatience in his friend's voice.
"Are you in a horry, Bonker?"
"My dear Baron, I grudge no man his sport--particularly if he is careful to label it his duty. But, to tell the truth, I have never played gamekeeper for so long before, and I begin to find that picking up your victims and carrying them after you in a bag is less exhilarating to-day than it was a week ago. I wouldn't curtail your pleasure for the world, my dear fellow!
But I do ask you to remember the poor keeper."
"My dear friend," said the Baron cordially, "I shall remember! It shall take bot two or tree days to do my duty. I shall not be long."
"A day or two of sober duty, Then, Hoch! for London, home, and beauty!" trolled the Count pleasantly.
The Baron did not echo the "Hoch"; but after retaining his thoughtful expression for a few moments, a smile stole over his face, and he remarked in an absent voice--"Vun does not alvays need to go home to find beauty."
"Yes," said the Count, "I have always held it to be one of the advantages of travel that one learns to tolerate the inhabitants of other lands."
