Count Bunker Part 2

Essington sprang up and enthusiastically shook his hand.

"Dear Baron, you come like a ray of sunshine through a London fog--like a moulin rouge alighting in Carlton House Terrace! I thought my own leaves were yellowing; I now perceive that was only an autumnal change.

Spring has returned, and I feel like a green bay tree!"

"Hoch, hoch!" roared the Baron, to the great surprise of two Cabinet Ministers and a Bishop who were taking tea at the other side of the room. "Vat shall ve do to show zere is no sick feeling?"

"H'm," reflected Essington, with a comical look. "There's a lot of scaffolding at the bottom of St. James's Street. Should we have it down to-night? Or what do you say to a packet of dynamite in the two-penny tube?"

The Baron sobered down a trifle.

"Ach, not so fast, not qvite so fast, dear Bonker. Remember I must not get into troble at ze emba.s.sy."

"My dear fellow, that's your pull. Foreign diplomatists are police-proof!"

"Ah, but my wife!"

"One stormy hour--then tears and forgiveness!"

The Baron lowered his voice.

"Her mozzer vill visit us next veek. I loff and respect Lady Grillyer; but I should not like to have to ask her for forgiveness."

"Yes, she has rather an uncompromising nose, so far as I remember."

"It is a kind nose to her friends, Bonker," the Baron explained, "but severe towards----"

"Myself, for instance," laughed Essington. "Well, what do you suggest?"

"First, zat you dine mit me to-night. No, I vill take no refusal!

Listen! I am now meeting a distinguished person on important international business--do you pairceive? Ha, ha, ha! To-night it vill be necessary ve most dine togezzer. I have an engagement, but he can be put off for soch a great person as the man I am now meeting at ze club!

You vill gom?"

"I should have been delighted--only unluckily I have a man dining with me. I tell you what! You come and join us! Will you?"

"If zat is ze only vay--yes, mit pleasure! Who is ze man?"

"Young Tulliwuddle. Do you remember going to a dance at Lord Tulliwuddle's, some five and a half years ago?"

"Himmel! Ha, ha! Vell do I remember!"

"Well, our host of that evening died the other day, and this fellow is his heir--a second or third cousin whose existence was so displeasing to the old peer that he left him absolutely nothing that wasn't entailed, and never said 'How-do-you-do?' to him in his life. In consequence, he may not entertain you as much as I should like."

"If he is your friend, I shall moch enjoy his society!"

"I am flattered, but hardly convinced. Tulliwuddle's intellect is scarcely of the sparkling kind. However, come and try."

The hour, the place, were arranged; a reminiscence or two exchanged; fresh suggestions thrown out for the rejuvenation of a Bavarian magnate; another baronial laugh shook the foundations of the club; and then, as the afternoon was wearing on, the Baron hailed a cab and galloped for Belgrave Square, and the late Mr. Bunker sauntered off along Pall Mall.

"Who can despair of human nature while the Baron von Blitzenberg adorns the earth?" he reflected. "The discovery of champagne and the invention of summer holidays were minor events compared with his descent from Olympus!"

He bought a b.u.t.ton-hole at the street corner and c.o.c.ked his hat, more airily than ever.

"A volcanic eruption may inspire one to succor humanity, a wedding to condole with it, and a general election to warn it of its folly; but the Baron inspires one to amuse!"

Meanwhile that Heaven-sent n.o.bleman, with a manner enshrouded in mystery, was comforting his wife.

"Ah, do not grieve, mine Alicia! No doubt ze Duke vill be disappointed not to see us to-night, but I have telegraphed. Ja, I have said I had so important an affair. Ach, do not veep! I did not know you wanted so moch to dine mit ze old Duke. I sopposed you vould like a quiet evening at home. But anyhow I have now telegraphed--and my leetle dinner mit my friend--Ach, it is so important zat I most rosh and get dressed. Cheer up, my loff! Good-by!"

He paused in answer to a tearful question.

"His name? Alas, I have promised not to say. You vould not have a European war by my indiscretion?"

CHAPTER III

With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, the rustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubbling of laughter, of life, and of wine--all these on each side of them, and a plate, a foaming gla.s.s, and a friend in front, the Baron and his host smiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals.

"Tulliwuddle is very late," said Essington; "but he's a devilish casual gentleman in all matters."

"I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!" exclaimed the Baron.

"Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiously high opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don't propose that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter."

The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoed from the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, his gla.s.s seemed ever empty.

"Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to-night!" he cried.

"May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and--and even mit my vife for a few days."

"My dear Baron!"

"To Alicia!" cried the Baron hastily, draining his gla.s.s at the toast.

"But some fun first!"

"'I could not love thee, dear, so well, Loved I not humor more!'"

misquoted his host gaily. "Ah!" he added, "here comes Tulliwuddle."

A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyegla.s.s in his eye, strolled up to their table.

"I'm beastly sorry for being so late," said he; "but I'm hanged if I could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?"

"It suits you like a halo," Essington a.s.sured him. "But let me introduce you to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."

Lord Tulliwuddle bowed politely and took the empty chair; but it was evident that his attention could not concentrate itself upon sublunary matters till the shirt-front had been critically inspected and appreciatively praised by his host. Indeed, it was quite clear that Essington had not exaggerated his regard for himself. This admiration was perhaps the most pleasing feature to be noted on a brief acquaintance with his lordship. He was obviously intended neither for a strong man of action nor a great man of thought. A tolerable appearance and considerable amiability he might no doubt claim; but unfortunately the effort to retain his eye-gla.s.s had apparently the effect of forcing his mouth chronically open, which somewhat marred his appearance; while his natural good-humor lapsed too frequently into the lamentations of an idle man that Providence neglected him or that his creditors were too attentive.

It happens, however, that it is rather his circ.u.mstances than his person which concern this history. And, briefly, these were something in this sort. Born a poor relation and guided by no strong hand, he had gradually seen himself, as Reverend uncles and Right Honorable cousins died off, approach nearer and nearer to the ancient barony of Tulliwuddle (created 1475 in the peerage of Scotland), until this year he had actually succeeded to it. But after his first delight in this piece of good fortune had subsided he began to realize in himself two notable deficiencies very clearly, the lack of money, and more vaguely, the want of any preparation for filling the shoes of a stately courtier and famous Highland chieftain. He would often, and with considerable feeling, declare that any ordinary peer he could easily have become, but that being old Tulliwuddle's heir, by Gad! he didn't half like the job.