CHAPTER IV.
The Baron was a few minutes late in joining the party at lunch, and when he appeared he held an open letter in his hand. It was only the middle of the next day, and yet he could have sworn that last night he was comparatively whole-hearted, he felt so very much more in love already.
“Yet anozzer introdogtion has found me out,” he said as he took his seat. “I have here a letter of invitation vich I do not zink I shall accept.”
He threw an amorous glance at Lady Alicia, which her watchful mother rightly interpreted as indicating the cause of his intended refusal.
“Who is it this time?” asked Mr Bunker.
“Sir Richard Brierley of Brierley Park, Dampshire. Is zat how you pronounce it?”
“Sir Richard Brierley!” exclaimed the Countess; “why, Alicia and I are going to visit some relatives of ours who live only six miles from Brierley Park! When has he asked you, Baron?”
“Ze end of next week.”
“How odd! We are going down to Dampshire at the end of next week too. You must accept, Baron!”
“I shall!” exclaimed the overjoyed Baron. “Shall ve go, Bonker?”