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Updated: June 27, 2025
At this point the exertion of shouting down six bagpipes in active eruption caused a temporary cessation of the lady's eloquence, and the pause was filled by the cheers of the crowd led by the "Hip-hip-hip!" of Count Bunker, and by the broken and fortunately inaudible protests of the embarrassed father of future Tulliwuddles. In a moment Mrs. Gallosh had resumed
"They received me with open arms, and I have taken the liberty of accepting on behalf of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Gallosh, and of our two selves, a very cordial invitation to lunch with them to-morrow." "Impossible!" cried the Baron gruffly. Eva turned a reproachful eye upon him. "Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle! I should so like to go." The Baron looked at her blankly. "You vould!"
"Oh, Himmel!" he exclaimed. "Vy did I not realize before? If nozing comes and nozing vill come ve most stay till one, I soppose." Mr. Gallosh emitted something like a groan. "Oh my, and that candle will not last more than half an hour at the most!" "Teufel!" said the Baron. "It vas Bonker did give him to me. He might have made a more proper calculation." The prospect was now gloomy indeed.
Gallosh," he said, resuming his brisk business tone; "but I beg you to convey to him and to his wife and daughter my compliments and my daughter's compliments and tell them that we hope they will excuse ceremony and bring Lord Tulliwuddle to luncheon to-morrow." Count Bunker expressed his readiness to carry this message, and the millionaire even more briskly resumed
His pudding-spoon, in vivid illustration, skipped across the table and struck his factor smartly on the shirt-front. "Sare, I beg your pardon," he beamed with a graciousness that charmed Mrs. Gallosh even more than his spirited conversation "Ach, do not return it, please! It is from my castle silver keep it in memory of zis happy night!" The royal generosity of this act almost reconciled Mrs.
As for the house-party, they felt that they were fortunate beyond the lot of most ordinary mortals. The Baron sat among his heirlooms, laboriously disengaging himself from his kilt. Fitfully throughout this process he would warble snatches of an air which Miss Gallosh had sung. "Whae vould not dee for Sharlie?" he trolled, "Ze yong chevalier!"
"From Mrs. Gallosh?" "I do not zink it vas from Mrs. Gallosh." Count Bunker smiled. "You inflamed all hearts last night," said he. The Baron looked grave. "I did drink too moch last night. But I did not say vat I should not, eh? I vas not rude or gross to Mistair Gallosh?" "Not to Mr. Gallosh." The Baron looked a trifle perturbed at the gravity of his tone.
"Hush!" replied a softer voice than Dugald's; as soft, indeed, as Eleanor's, yet clearly different. "Who is zat?" he gasped. "Eva Gallosh!" said the silken voice. "Oh, is that you?" "Yes yes it is me." "And are you really a Baron and an ambassador?" "Oh yes yes certainly I am." "Then then I've come to help you to escape! I've bribed Dugald and I've got a dog-cart here.
In the throes of their anger and chagrin their one consoling reflection was that no friends less tried than Mr. and Mrs. Rentoul happened to be there to witness their confusion. Yet other sufferers since Job have found that the oldest friends do not necessarily of er the most acceptable consolation. "Oh, oh! I feel like to die of grief!" wailed poor Mrs. Gallosh.
Cromarty-Gow, who was renowned for a cynical wit, and had been seeking an occasion to air it ever since Lord Tulliwuddle had made Miss Gallosh promise to dance a reel with him.
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