[Count Bunker by J. Storer Clouston]@TWC D-Link book
Count Bunker

CHAPTER XXIII
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Please do not think I shall repeat the offence." There was an accent on the word "friends" that enlightened the bewildered nobleman, even though quickness in taking a hint was not his most conspicuous attribute.

That the voice of gossip had reached the fair American was only too evident; but though considerably annoyed, he could not help feeling at the same time flattered to see the concern he was able to inspire.
"My friends!" said he with amorous artfulness.
"Do you mean Count Bunker?
He is ze only FRIEND I have here mit me." "The ONLY friend?
Indeed!" "Zat is since I see you vill not treat me as soch." Upon these lines a pretty little passage-of-arms ensued, the Baron employing with considerable effect the various blandishments of which he was admitted a past master; the heiress modifying her resentment by degrees under their insidious influence.

Still she would not entirely quit her troublesome position, till at last a happy inspiration came to reinforce his assaults.

Why, he reflected, should an entertainment that would require a considerable outlay of money and trouble serve to win the affections of only one girl?
With the same expenditure of ammunition it might be possible to double the bag.
"Miss Maddison," he said with a regretful air, "I did come here to-day in ze hope----But ach!" So happily had he succeeded in whetting her curiosity that she begged--nay, insisted--that he should finish his sentence.
"If you had been kind I did hope zat you vould allow me to give in your honor an entertainment at my castle." "An entertainment!" she cried, with a marked increase of interest.
"Jost a leetle EXPOSITION of ze Highland sport, mit bagpipes and caber and so forth; unvorthy of your notice perhaps, bot ze best I can do." Eleanor clapped her hands enthusiastically.
"I should just love it!" The triumphant diplomatist smiled complacently.
"Bonker vill arrange it all nicely," he said to himself.
And there rose in his fancy such a pleasing and gorgeous picture of himself in the panoply of the North, hurling a hammer skywards amidst the plaudits of his clan and the ravished murmurs of the ladies, that he could not but congratulate himself upon this last master-stroke of policy.

For if instead of ladies there were only one lady, exactly half the pleasure would be lacking.


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