The young man bowed with a look in his eye that clearly said—
“The next candidate, I perceive.”
Then having said good-by to Ri, the Count heard him murmur to Eleanor—
“Couldn't you—er—couldn't you just manage to see me off?”
“With very great pleasure!” she replied in a hearty voice that seemed curiously enough rather to damp than cheer his drooping spirits.
No sooner had they left the room together than Darius, junior, turned energetically to his guest, and said in a voice ringing with pride—
“You may not believe me, Count, but I assure you that is the third fellow she has seen to the door inside a fortnight! One Duke, one Viscount—who will expand into something more considerable some day—and this Honorable Pilkington! Your friend, sir, will be a fortunate man if he is able to please my sister.”
“She seems, indeed, a charming girl.”
“Charming! She is an angel in human form! And I, sir, her brother, will see to it that she is not deceived in the man she chooses—not if I can help it!”
The young man said this with such an air as Bunker supposed his forefathers to have worn when they hurled the tea into Boston harbor.