Bunker, though a trifle puzzled, promptly handed him the banjo case, remarking pleasantly-- "My banjo; take care of it, please." The man started so violently that he all but dropped it upon the steps.
"What the deuce did he think I said ?" wondered the Count.

"'Banjo' can't have sounded 'dynamite.'" He entered the house, and found himself in a pleasant hall, where his momentary uneasiness was at once forgotten in the charming welcome of his hostess.

Not only she, but her chaperon, received him with a flattering warmth that realized his utmost expectations.
"It was so good of you to come!" cried Miss Wallingford.
"So very kind," murmured Miss Minchell.
"I knew you wouldn't think it too unorthodox!" added Julia.
"I'm afraid orthodoxy is a crime I shall never swing for," said the Count, with his most charming smile.
"I am sure my father wouldn't REALLY mind," said Julia.
"Not if Sir Justin shared your enthusiasm, dear," added Miss Minchell.
"I must teach him to!" "Good Lord!" thought the Count.

"This is friendly indeed." A few minutes passed in the exchange of these preliminaries, and then his hostess said, with a pretty little air of discipleship that both charmed and slightly puzzled him, "You do still think that nobody should dine later than six, don't you?
I have ordered dinner for six to-night." "Six!" exclaimed the Count, but recovering himself, added, "An ideal hour--and it is half-past five now.

Perhaps I had better think of dressing." "What YOU call dressing!" smiled Julia, to his justifiable amazement.
"Let me show you to your room." She led him upstairs, and finally stopped before an open door.
"There!" she said, with an air of pride.