't think of leaving to-morrow morning?" asked Count Bunker,
who was watching him with a complacent air.

"Mein Gott, no fears!"

"We had better wait, perhaps, till the afternoon?"

"I go not for tree veeks! Gaben sie--das ist, gim'me zat tombler. Vun
more of mountain juice to ze health of all Galloshes! Partic'ly of vun!
Eh, old Bonker?"

The Count took care to see that the mountain juice was well diluted.
His friend had already found Scottish hospitality difficult to enjoy in
moderation.

"Baron, you gave us a marvellously lifelike representation of a Jacobite
chieftain!"

The Baron laughed a trifle vacantly.

"Ach, it is easy for me. Himmel, a Blitzenberg should know how!
Vollytoddle--Toddyvolly--whatsh my name, Bonker?"

The Count informed him.

"Tollivoddlesh is nozing to vat I am at home! Abs'lutely nozing! I have
a house twice as big as zis, and servants--Ach, so many I know not! Bot,
mein Bonker, it is not soch fon as zis! Mein Gott, I most get to bed. I
toss ze caber to-morrow."

And upon the arm of his faithful ally he moved cautiously towards his
bedroom.

But if he had enjoyed his evening well, his pleasure was nothing to the
gratification of his hosts. They could not bring themselves to break up
their party for the night: there were so many delightful reminiscences
to discuss.

"Of all the evenings ever I spent," declared Mr. Gallosh, "this fair
takes the cake. Just to think of that aristocratic young fellow being
as companionable-like! When first I put eyes on him, I said to
myself--'You're not for the likes of us. All lords and ladies is your
kind. Never a word did he say in the boat till he heard the pipes play,
and then I really thought he was frightened! It must just have been a
kind of home-sickness or something."

"It'll have been the tuning up that set his teeth on edge," Mrs. Gallosh
suggested practically.

"Or perhaps his heart was stirred with thoughts of the past!" said Miss
Gallosh, her eyes brightening.

In any case, all were agreed that the development of his hereditary
instincts had been extraordinarily rapid.

"I never really properly talked with a lord before," sighed Mrs.
Rentoul; "I hope they're all like this one."

Mrs. Gallosh, on the other hand, who boasted of having had one
tete-a-tete and joined in several general conversations with the
peerage, appraised Lord Tulliwuddle with greater discrimination.

"Ah, he's got a soupcon!" she declared. "That's what I adm