"No, Count," was her answer. "It doesn't suit my plan to tell you. I didn't think quickly enough yesterday, or I wouldn't have given it to you. It was in your hands before I thought whose writing it was."
The Count, who had risen, bowed profoundly.
"After all," he said, "I need not trouble you. Mrs. Harbinger acknowledged that she wrote it."
Mrs. Neligage flashed back at him a mocking grimace as she withdrew by the window.
"I never expected to live to see you believe a thing because a woman said it," she laughed. "You must have been in strange hands since I used to know you!"
Left alone, the Count thoughtfully regarded the letter for a moment, then with a shrug he restored it to his pocket, and turned to go around the corner of the house to the front piazza. Sounds of wheels, of voices, of talking, and of laughter told of the gathering of pleasure-seekers; and scarcely had the Count passed the corner than he met Mr. Bradish face to face. There were groups of men and women on the piazza and on the lawn, with the horses and dogs in sight which are the natural features in such a picture at an out-of-town club. The Count heeded none of these things, but stepped forward eagerly.
"Ah, Count, you have come out to the games like everybody else, I see," Bradish said pleasantly.
"Eet ees extreme glad to see me, Mr. Bradeesh," the Count returned, shaking him by the hand. "Do you weelleengly come wid us a leettle, for dat I say to you ver' particle?"
Bradish, with his usual kindly courtesy, followed the Count around the corner of the house, out of sight of the arriving company.
"Something particular to say to me, Count?" he observed. "You do me too much honor."