used had the Baron's mind become already that it was with
difficulty he could decipher the following petrifying announcement--

"Tulliwuddle--Herringay.--In London, privately, Lord Tulliwuddle to
Constance, daughter of Robert Herringay."

The Baron's brain reeled.

"Here is another paragraph that may interest you," pursued Mr. Maddison,
turning the paper outside in with an alarmingly vigorous movement, and
presenting a short paragraph for the Baron's inspection. This ran--

"PEER AND ACTRESS.

"As announced in our marriage column, the wedding took place yesterday,
privately, of Lord Tulliwuddle, kinsman and heir of the late peer
of that name, so well known in London and Scottish society, and Miss
Constance Herringay, better known as 'Connie Fitz Aubyn,' of the Gaiety
Theatre. It is understood that the young couple have departed for the
Mediterranean."

In a few seconds given him to prepare his mind, the Baron desperately
endeavored to imagine what the resourceful Bunker would say or do under
these awful circumstances.

"Well, sir?" said Mr. Maddison.

"It is a lie!"

"A lie?"

Ri laughed scornfully.

"Mean to say no such marriage took place?"

"It vas not me."

"Who was it, then?"

"Anozzer man, perhaps."

"Another Lord Tulliwuddle?" inquired the millionaire.

"Zey have made a mistake mit ze name. Yes, zat is how."

"Can it be possible?" cried Eleanor eagerly, her grief for the moment
forgotten.

"No," said her father; "it is not possible. The announcement is
confirmed by the paragraph. A mistake is inconceivable."

The Baron thought he perceived a brilliant idea.

"Ach, it is ze ozzer Tollvoddle!" he exclaimed. "So! zat is it, of
course."

"You mean to say there is another peerage of Tulliwuddle?"

"Oh, yes."

"Fetch Debrett, Ri!"

But Ri had already not only fetched Debrett, but found the place.

"A darned lie. Thought so," he observed succinctly.

The luckless diplomatist was now committed to perdition.

"It is not in ze books," he exclaimed. "It is bot a baronetcy."

"A baronetcy!"

"And illegitimate also."

"Sir," burst forth Ri, "you are a thundering liar! Is this your marriage
notice?"

The Baron changed his tactics.

"Yes!" he declared.

Eleanor screamed.

"Don't fuss, Eleanor," said her father kindly. "That ain't true, anyhow.
Why, the day before yesterday he was throwing that darned hammer."

"Which came down last night in our yard with the head