And, without possessing the Baron's remarkable enthusiasm for the sex, 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 shore, 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 circumstance; "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 shore, 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 muffled, but the Baron's lungs were powerful, and there was no mistaking his deep voice as he sang-- "'My loff she's like a red, red rose Zat's newly sprong in June! My loff she's like a melody Zat's sveetly blayed in tune! Ach, how does he end ?" Before his charmer had time to prompt him, the Count raised his own tolerably musical voice and replied-- "'And fare thee weel, my second string! And fare thee weel awhile! I won t come back again, my love, For tis ower mony mile! For an instant there followed a profound silence, and then the voice of the Baron replied, with somewhat forced mirth-- "Vary goot, Bonker! Ha, ha! Vary goot!" Meanwhile Bunker, without further delay, was pushing his way through a tangle of shrubbery till in a moment he spied the boat moored beneath the leafy bank, and although it was a capacious craft he observed that its two occupants were both crowded into one end.
"I am sent to escort you back to dinner," he said blandly.
"Tell zem ve shall be back in three minutes," replied the Baron, making a prodigious show of preparation for coming ashore.
"I am sorry to say that my orders were strictly to escort, not to herald you," said the Count apologetically.
Fortifying himself against unpopularity by the consciousness that he was doing his duty, this well-principled, even if spurious, nobleman paced back towards the house with the lady between him and the indignant Baron.
"Well, Tulliwuddle," he discoursed, in as friendly a tone as ever, "I left your cards with our American neighbors." "So ?" muttered the Baron stolidly.
"They received me with open arms, and I have taken the liberty of accepting on behalf of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Gallosh, and of our two selves, a very cordial invitation to lunch with them to-morrow." "Impossible!" cried the Baron gruffly.
Eva turned a reproachful eye upon him.
"Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle! I should so like to go." The Baron looked at her blankly.
"You vould!" "I have heard they are such nice people, and have such a beautiful place!" "I can confirm both statements," said the Count heartily.
"Besides, papa and mamma would be very disappointed if we didn't go." "Make it as you please," said the Baron gloomily.
His unsuspicious hosts heard of the invitation with such outspoken pleasure that their honored guest could not well renew his protest.

He had to suffer the arrangement to be made; but that night when he and Bunker withdrew to their own room, the Count perceived the makings of an argumentative evening.
"Sometimes you interfere too moch," the Baron began without preamble.
"Do you mind being a little more specific ?" replied the Count with smiling composure.
"Zere vas no hurry to lonch mit Maddison." "I didn't name the date." "You might have said next veek." "By next week Miss Maddison may be snapped up by some one else." "Zen vould Tollyvoddle be more lucky! I have nearly got for him ze most charming girl, mit as moch money as he vants.