“I trust that Lord Tulliwuddle, at least, will not fall under your displeasure, sir,” he replied with an air of sincere conviction that exactly echoed his thoughts.
“Oh, Ri!” cried Eleanor, running back into the room, “he was so sweet as he said good-by in the hall that I nearly kissed him! I would have, only it might have made him foolish again. But did you see his shoulders, Count! And oh, to think of marrying a gentle thing like that! Is Lord Tulliwuddle a firm man, Count Bunker?”
“Adamant—when in the right,” the Count assured her.
A renewed air of happy musing in her eyes warned him that he had probably said exactly enough, and with the happiest mean betwixt deference and dignity he bade them farewell.
“Then, Count, we shall see you all to-morrow,” said Eleanor as they parted. “Please tell your hosts that I am very greatly looking forward to the pleasure of knowing them. There is a Miss Gallosh, isn't there?”
The Count informed her that there was in fact such a lady.
“That is very good news for me! I need a girl friend very badly, Count; these proposals lose half their fun with only Ri to tell them to. I intend to make a confidante of Miss Gallosh on the spot!”
“H'm,” thought the Count, as he drove away, “I wonder whether she will.”