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Updated: June 27, 2025
And what a judgment on the presumption of Mr. and Mrs. Gallosh! Hard luck on Eva, of course but, then, girls who aspire to marry out of their own station must expect this kind of thing. The latter part of this commentary was naturally not that of the pretender's host and hostess.
You stood vell by me, I shall say. And you vill tell zem I did speak mit courage to ze ghost." "I will that!" said Mr. Gallosh.
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!
"Mr. Maddison!" expostulated the Count gently. The Count sprang to his feet. "Impossible!" he cried. "It is true!" "Name her!" "She answers, sir, to the plebeian cognomen of Gallosh." "A nobody!" sneered Ri. "In trade!" added his father scornfully.
Gallosh, while waiting for the Count's return, had so worked up his wrath that it was ready to explode on a hair-trigger touch; and, as evidently, his guest's extreme urbanity made it exceedingly difficult to carry out his threatening intentions. "I want a word with you, Count. I've been wanting a word with you all morning," he began. "Believe me, Mr. Gallosh, I appreciate the compliment."
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 admire!" "Do you mean his German accent?" asked Mr.
"On the other hand, Baron, Miss Maddison will probably have five or ten times as much money as Miss Gallosh. In arranging a marriage for another man, one must attend to such trifles as a few million dollars more or less." For the moment the Baron was silenced, but evidently not convinced.
For maircy's sake gie's a hold of you!" stammered Mr. Gallosh, falling on his hands and knees and feeling for the skirt of his lordship's kilt. But their flight was arrested by a portent so remarkable that had there been only a single witness one would suppose it to be a figment of his imagination. Fortunately, however, both the Baron and Mr. Gallosh can corroborate each detail.
"That is, in fact, the chief cause of Tulliwuddle's curious moodiness ever since he succeeded to the title. He feels his responsibilities a little too acutely." Again Mr. Gallosh ruminated, while his guest from the corner of his eye surveyed him shrewdly. "My forecast was wonderfully accurate," he said to himself. The silence was first broken by Mr. Gallosh. As if thinking aloud, he remarked
I make no pretensions, Count, to be better than what I am." "I also, Mr. Gallosh, endeavor to affect a similar modesty. It's rather becoming, I think, to a fine-looking man." "It's becoming to any kind of man that he should know his place. But I was saying, I'd have been content if his lordship had been distant and polite and that kind of thing. But was he?
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