The infatuated Baron had already begun to dread the inevitable hour of separation, and this piece of good fortune put him into the highest spirits. He felt so amiable towards the whole world that when the four went out for a stroll in the afternoon he lingered for a minute by Lady Grillyer’s side, and in that minute Mr Bunker and Lady Alicia were out of hail ahead. The Baron’s face fell. “Shall I come down to this place?” said Mr Bunker. “Would you like to?” “I should be sorry,” he replied, “to part with—the Baron.” Lady Alicia had expected a slightly different ending to this sentence, and so, to tell the truth, Mr Bunker had intended. “Oh, if you can’t stay away from the Baron, you had better go.” “It is certainly very hard to tear myself away from so charming a person as the Baron; perhaps you can feel for me?” “I think he is very—nice.” “He thinks you very nice.” “Does he?” said Lady Alicia, with great indifference, and a moment later changed the subject. Meanwhile the Baron was growing very uneasy. Of course it was quite natural that Mr Bunker should find it pleasant to walk for a few minutes by the side of the fairest creature on earth, and very possibly he was artfully pleading his friend’s cause. Yet the Baron felt uneasy. He remembered Mr Bunker’s invariable success with the gentler sex, his wit, his happy smile, and his good looks; and he began to wish most sincerely that these fascinations were being exercised on the now somewhat breathless Countess, for his efforts to overtake the pair in front had both annoyed and exhausted Lady Grillyer. “Need we walk quite so fast, Baron?” she suggested; and Lady Grillyer’s suggestions were of the kind that are evidently meant to be acted upon. “Ach, I did forged,” said the Baron, absently, and without further remark he slackened his pace for a few yards and then was off again. “You were telling me,” gasped the Countess, “of something you thought of—doing when—you went—home.” “Zo? Oh yes, it vas—Teufel! I do not remember.” “Really, Baron,” said the Countess, decidedly, “I cannot go any farther at this rate. Let us turn. The others will be turning too, in a minute.” In fact the unlucky Baron had clean run Lady Grillyer’s maternal instincts off their feet, and he suffered for it by seeing nothing of either his friend or his charmer for an hour and a half. That night he accepted Sir Richard’s invitation, but said nothing whatever about bringing a friend.