ER. Think mercifully of him!"

He was so careful to give no indication which of the rival belles
was "her," that each was able to take to herself a certain mournful
consolation.

"That wasn't MUCH excuse," said Eleanor, yet with a less vindictive air.

"Certainly not VERY much," murmured Eva.

"He ought to have thought of the pain he was giving HER," added Eleanor.

"Yes," said Eva. "Indeed he ought!"

"Yes, that is true," allowed the Count; "but remember his punishment! To
be married already now proves to be less his fault than his misfortune."

By this time he had insidiously led them back to their car.

"And must you return at once?" he exclaimed.

"We had better," said Eleanor, with a suspicion of a sigh. "Miss
Gallosh, I'll drive you home first."

"You're too kind, Miss Maddison."

"Oh, no!"

The Count assisted them in, greatly pleased to see this amicable spirit.
Then shaking hands heartily with each, he said--

"I can speak for my friend with conviction, because my own regard for
the lady in question is as deep and as sincere as his. Believe me, I
shall never forget her!"

He was rewarded with two of the kindest smiles ever bestowed upon him,
and as they drove away each secretly wondered why she had previously
preferred the Baron to the Count. It seemed a singular folly.

"Two deuced nice girls," mused he; "I do believe I told 'em the truth in
every particular!"

He watched their car dwindle to a scurrying speck, and then strolled
back thoughtfully to purchase his ticket.

He found the signals down, and the far-off clatter of the train
distinctly audible through the early morning air. A few minutes more and
he was stepping into a first-class compartment, his remarkable costume
earning (he could not but observe) the pronounced attention of the
guard. The Baron and Alicia, with an air of mutual affection, entered
another; both the doors were closed, everything seemed ready, yet the
train lingered.

"Start ze train! Start ze train! I vill give you a pound--two
pound--tree pound, to start him!"

The Count leaped up and thrust his head through the window.

"What the dickens----!" thought he.

Hanging out of the other window he beheld the clamant Baron urging the
guard with frenzied entreaty.

"But they're wanting to go by the train, sir," said the guard.

"No, no. Zey do not! It is a mistake! Start him!"

Following their gaze he saw, racing toward them, the cause of their
delay. It was a