For the next week Rudolph was in as many states of mind as there were hours in each day. He walked and rode and drove with Lady Alicia through the most romantic spots he could find. He purchased a large assortment of golf-clubs, and under her tuition essayed to play that most dangerous of games for mixed couples. In turn he broke every club in his set; the cavities he hewed in the links are still pointed out to the curious; but the heart of the Lady Alicia alone he seemed unable to damage. There was always a moment at which his courage failed him, and in that fatal pause she invariably changed the subject with the most innocent air in the world. Every now and then the greenest spasms of jealousy would seize him. Why did she elect to disappear with Mr Bunker on the very morning that he had resolved should settle his fate? It is true he had made the same resolution every morning, but on this particular one he had no doubt he would have put his fate to the touch. And why on a certain moonlight evening was he left to the unsentimental company of the Countess? He made no further reference to the visit to Brierley Park; in fact he shunned discussion of any kind with his quondam bosom friend. The time slipped past, till the visit to St Egbert’s was almost at an end. On the day after to-morrow all four were going to leave (where Mr Bunker was going, his friend never troubled to inquire). They sat together latish in the evening in the Baron’s room. That very afternoon Lady Alicia had spent more time in Mr Bunker’s society than in his, and the Baron felt that the hour had come for an explanation. “Bonker, I haf a suspection!” he exclaimed, suddenly. “It is not I, bot you, who are ze friend to ze beautiful Lady Alicia. You are not doing me fair!” “My dear Baron!” “It is so: you are not doing me fair,” the Baron reiterated. “My dear fellow,” replied Mr Bunker, “it is you are so much in love that you have lost your wonted courage. You don’t use your chances.” “I do not get zem.” “Nonsense, Baron! I haven’t spent one hour in Lady Alicia’s company to your twenty-four, and yet if I’d been matrimonially inclined I could have proposed twice over. You’ve had the chance of being accepted fifty times.” “I haf not been accepted vunce,” said the Baron, moodily. “Have you put the question?” “I haf not dared.” “Well, my dear Baron, whose fault is that?” The Baron was silent. “Ask her to-morrow.” “No, Bonker,” said the Baron, sadly; “she treats me not like a lover. She talks of friendship. I do not vish a frient!” Mr Bunker looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. “You don’t think you have touched her heart?” he asked at length. “I fear not.” “You must try an infallible recipe for winning a woman’s heart. You must be in trouble.” “In trouble!” “I have tried it once myself, with great success.” “Bot how?” “You must fall ill.” “Bot I cannot; I am too healthful, alas!”