ss. "He said at the beginning that he
travelled quite alone."

"That is precisely what condemns him," said her mother.

"Precisely," reiterated Sir Justin.

The Baroness audibly sobbed, while the two patchers of her peace of mind
gazed at her commiserately.

"What am I to do?" she asked at length. "I can't believe he really----
But how am I to find out?"

"I shall make further investigations," promptly replied Sir Justin.

"And I also," added the Countess.

"Meanwhile," said Sir Justin, "we shall be exceedingly interested to
learn what further particulars of his wanderings the Baron supplies you
with."

"Yes," observed the Countess, "he can fortunately be trusted to betray
himself. You will inform me, Alicia, as soon as you hear from him
again."

Her daughter made no reply.

Sir Justin rose and bade them a grave farewell.

"In my daughter's name I thank you cordially," said the Countess, as she
pressed his hand.

"Anything I have done has been a pleasure to me," he assured them with a
sincerity there was no mistaking.

CHAPTER XV

In an ancient and delightful garden, where glimpses of the loch below
gleamed through a mass of summer foliage, and the gray castle walls
looked down on smooth, green glades, the Baron slowly paced the shaven
turf. But he did not pace it quite alone, for by his side moved
a graceful figure in a wide, sun-shading hat and a frock entirely
irresistible. Beneath the hat, by bending a little down, you could have
seen the dark liquid eyes and tender lips of Eva Gallosh. And the Baron
frequently bent down.

"I am proud of everyzing zat I find in my home," said the Baron
gallantly.

The lady's color rose, but not apparently in anger.

"Ach, here is a pretty leetle seat!" he exclaimed in a tone of pleased
discovery, just as though he had not been leading her insidiously
towards it ever since they, came into the garden.

It was, indeed, a most shady and secluded bench, an ideal seat for any
gallant young Baron who had left his Baroness sufficiently far away. He
glanced down complacently upon his brawny knees, displayed (he could
not but think) to great advantage beneath his kilt and sporran, and then
with a tenderer complacency, turned his gaze upon his fair companion.

"You say you like me in ze tartan?" he murmured.

"I adore everything Highland! Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle, how fortunate you
are!"

Nature had gifted Miss Gallosh with a generous share of romantic
sentiment.