indeed."

"Bot I shall not do it so vell as you."

"A hundred times better."

"Bot vy did you not say so before?"

"Tulliwuddle might not have agreed with me."

"Bot vould he like it now?"

"It is not what he likes that we should consider, it's what is good for
his interests."

"Bot if I should fail?"

"He will be no worse off than before. Left to himself, he certainly
won't marry the lady. You give him his only chance."

"Bot more zan you vould, really and truthfully?"

"My dear Baron, you are admitted by all to be an ideal German nobleman.
Therefore you will certainly make an ideal British peer. You have the
true Grand-Seigneur air. No one would mistake you for anything but a
great aristocrat, if they merely saw you in bathing pants; whereas
I have something a little different about my manner. I'm not so
impressive--not so hall-marked, in fact."

His friend's omniscient air and candidly eloquent tone impressed the
Baron considerably. His ingrained conviction of his own importance
accorded admirably with these arguments. His thirst for "life" craved
this lion's share. His sanguine spirit leaped at the appeal. Yet
his well-regulated conscience could not but state one or two patent
objections.

"Bot I have not read so moch of the Tollyvoddles as you. I do not know
ze strings so vell."

"I have told you nearly everything I know. You will find the rest here."

Essington handed him the note-book containing his succinct digest.
In intelligent anticipation of this contingency it was written in his
clearest handwriting.

"You should have been a German," said the Baron admiringly.

He glanced with sparkling eyes at the note-book, and then with a
distinctly greater effort the Teutonic conscience advanced another
objection.

"Bot you have bought ze kilt, ze Highland hat, ze brogue shoes."

"I had them made to your measurements."

The Baron impetuously embraced his thoughtful friend. Then again his
smile died away.

"Bot, Bonker, my voice! Zey tell me I haf nozing zat you vould call
qvite an accent; bot a foreigner--one does regognize him, eh?"

"I shall explain that in a sentence. The romantic tincture of--well, not
quite accent, is a pleasant little piece of affectation adopted by the
young bloods about the Court in compliment to the German connections of
the Royal family."

The Baron raised no more objections.

"Bonker, I agree! Tollyvoddle I shall be, by Jove and all!"

He beamed his satisfact