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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Being a Tulliwuddle, or any other sort of pampered aristocrat, doesn't altogether guarantee faithfulness," observed the Silver King. "If he has deceived you, he shall answer to ME!" declared the Count.
"I can guarantee Lord Tulliwuddle as a model for a sculptor and an eligible candidate for canonization," declared the Count. "I guess we want something grittier than that," said Ri. "And what there is of it sounds almost too good news to be true," added his sister. "I don't want a man like a stained-glass window, Count; because for one thing I couldn't get him."
Not even the news of Flodden brought direr dismay to Hechnahoul than Mr. Maddison's brief note. Lord Tulliwuddle an impostor? That magnificent young man a fraud? So much geniality, brawn, and taste for the bagpipes merely the sheep's clothing that hid a wandering wolf? Incredible! Yet, on second thoughts, how very much more thrilling than if he had really been an ordinary peer!
"Tulliwuddle has only just made the discovery that his ancestral castle is let; but his tenant, in the most handsome spirit, invites us to be his guests so long as we are in Scotland. A very hospitable letter, isn't it?"
"Well, I mean that you aren't a nobleman, and do you think you could carry things off like a ah like a Tulliwuddle?" Essington remained entirely serious. "I shall have at my elbow an adviser whose knowledge of the highest society in Europe is, without exaggeration, unequalled.
Jerwin-Speedy's to-night?" she said one afternoon. "Certainly," replied the Countess decisively. Alicia sighed submissively; but this attitude was abruptly changed into one of readiness, nay, even of alacrity, when her mother remarked "By the way, she is an aunt of the present Tulliwuddle. I believe it was you who were asking about him the other day."
"Is is Miss Maddison still in the house?" she inquired, with an effort to put the question carelessly. "I believe so," said the Count in his kindest voice. "And and that isn't Lord Tulliwuddle with my father, is it?" "I believe not," said the Count, still more sympathetically.
"Sit down, my dear Baron; that lady over there thinks you are preparing to attack her. Shall we smoke? Try these cigars." Throwing the Baron a shrewd glance to calm his somewhat alarming exhilaration, their host turned with a graver air to his other guest. "Tulliwuddle," said he, "I should like to help you." "I wish to the deuce you could!" Essington bent over the table confidentially.
"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!"
"I adore everything Highland! Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle, how fortunate you are!" Nature had gifted Miss Gallosh with a generous share of romantic sentiment.
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