Count Bunker [61]
"MY DEAR ALICIA,--I have just learned for certain that Lord T. is at his place in Scotland. Singularly enough, he is described as apparently of foreign extraction, and I hear that he is accompanied by a friend of the name of Count Bunker. I am just setting out for the North myself, and trust that I may be able to elucidate the mystery. Yours very truly, "JUSTIN WALLINGFORD."
"Foreign extraction! Count Bunker!" gasped the Baroness; and without stopping to debate the matter again, she rushed into her mother's arms, and there sobbed out the strange story of her second letter and the two Lord Tulliwuddles.
It were difficult to say whether anger at her daughter's deceit, indignation with the treacherous Baron, or a stern pleasure in finding her worst prognostications in a fair way to being proved, was the uppermost emotion in Lady Grillyer's mind when she had listened to this relation. Certainly poor Alicia could not but think that sympathy for her troubles formed no ingredient in the mixture.
"To think of your concealing this from me for so long!" she cried: "and Sir Justin abetting you! I shall tell him very plainly what I think of him! But if my daughter sets an example in treachery, what can one expect of one's friends?"
"After all, mamma, it was my own and Rudolph's concern more than your's!" exclaimed Alicia, flaring up for an instant.
"Don't answer me, child!" thundered the Countess. "Fetch me a railway time-table, and say nothing that may add to your sin!"
"A time-table. mamma? What for?"
"I am going to Scotland," pronounced the Countess.
"Then I shall go too!"
"Indeed you shall not. You will wait here till I have brought Rudolph back to you."
The Baroness said nothing aloud, but within her wounded heart she thought bitterly
"Mamma seems to forget that even worms will turn sometimes!"
CHAPTER XXVIII
A decidedly delectable residence," said Count Bunker to himself as his dog-cart approached the lodge gates of The Lash. "And a very proper setting for the pleasant scenes so shortly to be enacted. Lodge, avenue, a bogus turret or two, and a flagstaff on top of 'em-- by Gad, I think one may safely assume a tolerable cellar in such a mansion."
As he drove up the avenue between a double line of ancient elms and sycamores, his satisfaction increased and his spirits rose ever higher.
"I wonder if I can forecast the evening: a game of three-handed bridge, in which I trust I'll be lucky enough to lose a little silver, that'll put 'em in good- humor and make old Miss What-d'ye-may-call-her the more willing to go to bed early; then the departure of the chaperon; and then the tete-a-tete! I hope to Heaven I haven't got rusty!"
With considerable satisfaction he ran over the outfit he had brought, deeming it even on second thoughts a singularly happy selection: the dining coat with pale- blue lapels, the white tie of a new material and cut borrowed from the Baron's finery, the socks so ravishingly embroidered that he had more than once caught the ladies at Hechnahoul casting affectionate glances upon them.
"A first-class turn-out," he thought. "And what a lucky thing I thought of borrowing a banjo from young Gallosh! A coon song in the twilight will break the ground prettily."
By this time they had stopped before the door, and an elderly man-servant, instead of waiting for the Count, came down the steps to meet him. In his manner there was something remarkably sheepish and constrained, and, to the Count's surprise, he thrust forth his hand almost as if he expected it to be shaken. 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.