Part 4 (2/2)

”Really,” he said at last, ”if you are very desirous of presenting me to your friends, of course I--”

”Oh, only if it is agreeable to you, of course. If it it is in any way the reverse--” protested the polite Mr. Barker.

”Not that--not exactly disagreeable. Only it is some time since I have enjoyed the advantage of an hour's conversation with ladies; and besides, since it comes to that, I am here as a pedestrian, and I do not present a very civilised appearance.”

”Don't let that disturb you. Since you consent,” went on Mr. Barker, briskly taking everything for granted, ”I may tell you that the lady in question has expressed a wish to have you presented, and that I could not do less than promise to bring you if possible. As for your personal appearance, it is not of the least consequence. Perhaps, if you don't mind a great deal, you might have your hair cut. Don't be offended, Professor, but nothing produces an appearance of being dressed so infallibly as a neatly-trimmed head.”

”Oh, certainly, if you think it best, I will have my hair cut. It will soon grow again.”

Mr. Barker smiled under the lambrikin of his moustache. ”Yes,” thought he, ”but it sha'n't.”

”Then,” he said aloud, ”we will go about eleven.”

Claudius sat wondering who the lady could be who wanted to have him presented. But he was afraid to ask; Barker would immediately suppose he imagined it to be the dark lady. However, his thoughts took it as a certainty that it must be she, and went on building castles in the air and conversations in the clouds. Barker watched him and probably guessed what he was thinking of; but he did not want to spoil the surprise he had arranged, and fearing lest Claudius might ask some awkward question, he went to bed, leaving the Doctor to his cogitations.

In the morning he lay in wait for his friend, who had gone off for an early walk in the woods. He expected that a renewal of the attack would be necessary before the sacrifice of the yellow locks could be accomplished, and he stood on the steps of the hotel, clad in the most exquisite of grays, tapering down to the most brilliant of boots. He had a white rose in his b.u.t.tonhole, and his great black dog was lying at his feet, having for a wonder found his master, for the beast was given to roaming, or to the plebeian society of Barker's servant. The American's careful attire contrasted rather oddly with his sallow face, and with the bony hand that rested against the column. He was a young man, but he looked any age that morning. Before long his eye twinkled and he changed his position expectantly, for he saw the tall figure of Claudius striding up the street, a head and shoulders above the strolling crowd; and, wonderful to relate, the hair was gone, the long beard was carefully clipped and trimmed, and the Doctor wore a new gray hat!

”If he will black his boots and put a rose in his coat, he will do. What a tearing swell he will be when he is dressed,” thought Mr. Barker, as he looked at his friend.

”You see I have followed your advice,” said Claudius, holding out his hand.

”Always do that, and you will yet taste greatness,” said the other cheerfully. ”You look like a crown prince like that. Perfectly immense.”

”I suppose I am rather big,” said Claudius apologetically, not catching the American idiom. Mr. Barker, however, did not explain himself, for he was thinking of other things.

”We will go very soon. Excuse the liberty, Professor, but you might have your boots blacked. There is a little cad down the backstairs who does it.”

”Of course,” answered Claudius, and disappeared within. A small man who was coming out paused and turned to look after him, putting up his eyegla.s.s. Then he took off his hat to Mr. Barker.

”Pardon, Monsieur,” he began, ”if I take the liberty of making an inquiry, but could you inform me of the name of that gentleman, whose appearance fills me with astonishment, and whose vast dimensions obscure the landscape of Baden?”

Mr. Barker looked at the small man for a moment very gravely.

”Yes,” said he pensively, ”his royal highness _is_ a large man certainly.” And while his interlocutor was recovering enough to formulate another question, Mr. Barker moved gently away to a flowerstand.

When Claudius returned his friend was waiting for him, and himself pinned a large and expensive rose in the Doctor's b.u.t.tonhole. Mr. Barker surveyed his work--the clipped head, the new hat, the s.h.i.+ny boots and the rose--with a satisfied air, such as Mr. Barnum may have worn when he landed Jumbo on the New York pier. Then he called a cab, and they drove away.

CHAPTER IV.

The summer breath of the roses blew sweetly in through the long windows of the Countess's morning-room from the little garden outside as Barker and Claudius entered. There was an air of inhabited luxury which was evidently congenial to the American, for he rubbed his hands softly together and touched one or two objects caressingly while waiting for the lady of the house. Claudius glanced at the table and took up a book, with that singular student habit that is never lost. It was a volume of English verse, and in a moment he was reading, just as he stood, with his hat caught between the fingers that held the book, oblivious of countesses and visits and formalities. There was a rustle and a step on the garden walk, and both men turned towards the open gla.s.s door.

Claudius almost dropped the vellum-covered poet, and was very perceptibly startled as he recognised the lady of his Heidelberg adventure--the woman who had got, as by magic, a hold over his thoughts, so that he dreamed of her and wondered about her, sleeping and waking.

Dark-eyed Countess Margaret, all clad in pure white, the smallest of lace fichus just dropped over her heavy hair, moved smoothly up the steps and into the room.

”Good morning, Mr. Barker, I am so glad you have come,” said she, graciously extending her hand in the cordial Transatlantic fas.h.i.+on.

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