"Vas I not right, Bonker ?" "Quite, my dear Baron," replied the Count sympathetically.

"Believe me, I appreciate your self-sacrifice.

In fact, it was to relieve the strain upon your too generous heart that I immediately accepted Mr.Maddison's invitation for to-morrow." "How so ?" demanded the Baron with perhaps excusable surprise.
"You will be able to decide at once which is the most suitable bride for Tulliwuddle, and then, if you like, we can leave in a day or two." "Bot I do not vish to leave so soon!" "Well then, while you stay, you can at least make sure that you are engaging the affections of the right girl." Though Bunker spoke with an air of desiring merely to assist his friend, the speech seemed to arouse some furious thinking in the Baron's mind.
For some moments he made no reply, and then at last, in a troubled voice, he said-- "I have already a leetle gommitted Tollyvoddle to Eva.

Ach, bot not moch! Still it vas a leetle.

Miss Maddison--vat is she like ?" To the best of his ability the Count sketched the charms of Eleanor Maddison--her enthusiasm for large and manly noblemen, and the probable effects of the Baron's stalwart form set off by the tartan which (in deference, he declared, to the Wraith's injunctions) he now invariably wore.