Vas it not
Soud America?"

"Did I say Africa? America of course I meant. Well, let us shop if you
have no objections: then we might have a little lunch, and afterwards
visit the Park. For the evening, what do you say to a theatre?"

"Goot!" cried the Baron. "Make it tzos."

Mr Bunker's shopping turned out to be a pretty extensive operation.

"Loan vat you please of money," said his friend. "A gentleman should be
dressed in agreement."

With now and then an apology for his extravagance, he took full advantage
of the Baron's generosity, and ordered such an assortment of garments that
his tailor could hardly bow low enough to express his gratification.

After an excellent lunch in the most expensive restaurant to be found,
they walked arm-in-arm westwards along Piccadilly, Mr Bunker pointing out
the various objects of historical or ephemeral interest to be seen in that
thoroughfare, the Baron drinking in this information with the serious air
of the distinguished traveller.

"And now we come to the Park," said Mr Bunker. "Guard your heart, Baron."

"Ha, ha, ha!" replied the Baron. "Zo instrogtion is feenished, and now
goms entertainment, ha?"

"With the moral always running through it, remember."

"I shall not forget."

The sunshine had brought out a great many carriages and a sprinkling of
walkers along the railings. The two friends strolled among them, eyeing
the women and stopping now and then to look back at a carriage.

"I suppose," said the Baron, "zat vile you haf been avay your frients have
forgot you."

As he spoke a young man looked hard at Mr Bunker, and even made a movement
as though he would stop and speak to him. Mr Bunker looked blandly through
him and walked on.

"Do you not know zat gentleman?"

"Which gentleman?"

"Ze young man zat looked so at you."

"Some young men have a way of staring here, Baron."

A few minutes later a lady in a passing carriage looked round sharply at
them with an air of great surprise, and half bowed.

"Surely," exclaimed the Baron, "zat vas a frient of yours!"

"I am not a friend of hers, then," Mr Bunker replied with a laugh. "Her
bow I think must have been aimed at you."

The Baron shook his head, and seemed to be drawing a moral.

"Baron," his friend exclaimed, suddenly, "let us go back; here comes one
of our most popular phenomena, a London fog. We need not stay in the Park
to observe it."

The sun was already obscured; there stole a most insidiou