“Here is a singular phenomenon—a bunch of white heather that has got itself tied together with ribbon!”
The Baron started, and took the tiny bouquet from his hand, his eyes sparkling with delight.
“It must be a gift from——” he began, and then laid it down again, though his gaze continued fixed upon it. “How did it gom in?” he mused. “Ach! she most have brought it herself. How vary nice!”
He turned suddenly and met his friend's humorous eyes.
“I shall be faithful, Bonker! You can trust me!” he exclaimed; “I shall put it in my letter to Alicia, and send it mit my love! See, Bonker!”
He took a letter from his desk—its envelope still open—hurriedly slipped in the white heather, and licked the gum while his resolution was hot. Then, having exhibited this somewhat singular evidence of his constancy, he sighed again.
“It vas ze only safe vay,” he said dolefully. “Vas I not right, Bonker?”
“Quite, my dear Baron,” replied the Count sympathetically. “Believe me, I appreciate your self-sacrifice. In fact, it was to relieve the strain upon your too generous heart that I immediately accepted Mr. Maddison's invitation for to-morrow.”
“How so?” demanded the Baron with perhaps excusable surprise.
“You will be able to decide at once which is the most suitable bride for Tulliwuddle, and then, if you like, we can leave in a day or two.”