“I could not know it; zere has not before been ze reason for a pretty speech,” responded the Baron, gallantly.
If Lady Grillyer had been anybody else, one would have said that she actually giggled. Certainly a little wave of scandalised satisfaction rippled all over her.
“Oh, really!” she cried, “I don’t know which of you is the worst offender.”
All this time, as may be imagined, Mr Bunker had been in a state of high mystification at his friend’s unusual adroitness.
“How the deuce did he get hold of her?” he said to himself.
In the next pause the Baron solved the riddle.
“You vil vunder, Bonker,” he said, “how I did gom to know ze Lady Grillyer.”
“I envied, certainly,” replied his friend, with a side glance at the now purring Countess.
“She vas of my introdogtions, bot till after you vent out zis morning I did not lairn her name. Zen I said to myself, ‘Ze sun shines, Himmel is kind! Here now is ze fair Lady Grillyer—my introdogtion!’ and zo zat is how, you see.”
“To think of the Baron being here and our only finding each other out by chance!” said the Countess.