His son displayed an equal enthusiasm, and the Count departed with an enhanced reputation and the lingering fragrance of a cocktail upon his tongue.
“Now I think we are in comparatively smooth water,” he said to himself as he whizzed back to the castle.
At the door he was received by the butler.
“Mr. Gallosh is waiting for you in the library, my lord,” said he, adding confidentially (since the Count had endeared himself to all), “He's terrible impatient for to see your lordship.”
CHAPTER XXVI
Evidently Mr. Gallosh, while waiting for the Count's return, had so worked up his wrath that it was ready to explode on a hair-trigger touch; and, as evidently, his guest's extreme urbanity made it exceedingly difficult to carry out his threatening intentions.
“I want a word with you, Count. I've been wanting a word with you all morning,” he began.
“Believe me, Mr. Gallosh, I appreciate the compliment.”
“Where were you? I mean it was verra annoying not to find you when I wanted you.”