Count Bunker [5]
were minor events compared with his descent from Olympus!"
He bought a button-hole at the street corner and cocked his hat, more airily than ever.
"A volcanic eruption may inspire one to succor humanity, a wedding to condole with it, and a general election to warn it of its folly; but the Baron inspires one to amuse!"
Meanwhile that Heaven-sent nobleman, with a manner enshrouded in mystery, was comforting his wife.
"Ah, do not grieve, mine Alicia! No doubt ze Duke vill be disappointed not to see us to-night, but I have telegraphed. Ja, I have said I had so important an affair. Ach, do not veep! I did not know you wanted so moch to dine mit ze old Duke. I sopposed you vould like a quiet evening at home. But anyhow I have now telegraphed--and my leetle dinner mit my friend--Ach, it is so important zat I most rosh and get dressed. Cheer up, my loff! Good-by!"
He paused in answer to a tearful question.
"His name? Alas, I have promised not to say. You vould not have a European war by my indiscretion?"
CHAPTER III
With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, the rustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubbling of laughter, of life, and of wine--all these on each side of them, and a plate, a foaming glass, and a friend in front, the Baron and his host smiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals.
"Tulliwuddle is very late," said Essington; "but he's a devilish casual gentleman in all matters."
"I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!" exclaimed the Baron.
"Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiously high opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don't propose that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter."
The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoed from the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, his glass seemed ever empty.
"Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to- night!" he cried. "May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and--and even mit my vife for a few days."
"My dear Baron!"
"To Alicia!" cried the Baron hastily, draining his glass at the toast. "But some fun first!"
" 'I could not love thee, dear, so well, Loved I not humor more!' "
misquoted his host gaily. "Ah!" he added, "here comes Tulliwuddle."
A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyeglass in his eye, strolled up to their table.
"I'm beastly sorry for being so late," said he; "but I'm hanged if I could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?"
"It suits you like a halo," Essington assured him. "But let me introduce you to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."
Lord Tulliwuddle bowed politely and took the empty chair; but it was evident that his attention could not concentrate itself upon sublunary matters till the shirt- front had been critically inspected and appreciatively praised by his host. Indeed, it was quite clear that Essington had not exaggerated his regard for himself. This admiration was perhaps the most pleasing feature to be noted on a brief acquaintance with his lordship. He was obviously intended neither for a strong man of action nor a great man of thought. A tolerable appearance and considerable amiability he might no doubt claim; but unfortunately the effort to retain his eye- glass had apparently the effect of forcing his mouth chronically open, which somewhat marred his appearance; while his natural good-humor lapsed too frequently into the lamentations of an idle man that Providence neglected him or that his creditors were too attentive.
It happens, however, that it is rather his circumstances than his person which concern this history. And, briefly, these were something in this sort. Born a poor relation and guided by no strong hand, he had gradually seen himself, as Reverend uncles and Right Honorable cousins died of, approach
He bought a button-hole at the street corner and cocked his hat, more airily than ever.
"A volcanic eruption may inspire one to succor humanity, a wedding to condole with it, and a general election to warn it of its folly; but the Baron inspires one to amuse!"
Meanwhile that Heaven-sent nobleman, with a manner enshrouded in mystery, was comforting his wife.
"Ah, do not grieve, mine Alicia! No doubt ze Duke vill be disappointed not to see us to-night, but I have telegraphed. Ja, I have said I had so important an affair. Ach, do not veep! I did not know you wanted so moch to dine mit ze old Duke. I sopposed you vould like a quiet evening at home. But anyhow I have now telegraphed--and my leetle dinner mit my friend--Ach, it is so important zat I most rosh and get dressed. Cheer up, my loff! Good-by!"
He paused in answer to a tearful question.
"His name? Alas, I have promised not to say. You vould not have a European war by my indiscretion?"
CHAPTER III
With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, the rustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubbling of laughter, of life, and of wine--all these on each side of them, and a plate, a foaming glass, and a friend in front, the Baron and his host smiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals.
"Tulliwuddle is very late," said Essington; "but he's a devilish casual gentleman in all matters."
"I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!" exclaimed the Baron.
"Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiously high opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don't propose that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter."
The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoed from the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, his glass seemed ever empty.
"Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to- night!" he cried. "May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and--and even mit my vife for a few days."
"My dear Baron!"
"To Alicia!" cried the Baron hastily, draining his glass at the toast. "But some fun first!"
" 'I could not love thee, dear, so well, Loved I not humor more!' "
misquoted his host gaily. "Ah!" he added, "here comes Tulliwuddle."
A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyeglass in his eye, strolled up to their table.
"I'm beastly sorry for being so late," said he; "but I'm hanged if I could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?"
"It suits you like a halo," Essington assured him. "But let me introduce you to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."
Lord Tulliwuddle bowed politely and took the empty chair; but it was evident that his attention could not concentrate itself upon sublunary matters till the shirt- front had been critically inspected and appreciatively praised by his host. Indeed, it was quite clear that Essington had not exaggerated his regard for himself. This admiration was perhaps the most pleasing feature to be noted on a brief acquaintance with his lordship. He was obviously intended neither for a strong man of action nor a great man of thought. A tolerable appearance and considerable amiability he might no doubt claim; but unfortunately the effort to retain his eye- glass had apparently the effect of forcing his mouth chronically open, which somewhat marred his appearance; while his natural good-humor lapsed too frequently into the lamentations of an idle man that Providence neglected him or that his creditors were too attentive.
It happens, however, that it is rather his circumstances than his person which concern this history. And, briefly, these were something in this sort. Born a poor relation and guided by no strong hand, he had gradually seen himself, as Reverend uncles and Right Honorable cousins died of, approach