Part 18 (1/2)

”Anozzer bottle of claret,” said the Baron, gruffly, to a waiter.

Mr Bunker let him consume it entirely by himself, awaiting the results with patience. Gradually his face relaxed a little, until all at once, when the b.u.mp in the bottom of the bottle was beginning to appear above the wine, the whole room was startled by a stentorian, ”Ha, ha, ha!”

”My dear Bonker!” cried the Baron, when he had finished laughing, ”forgif me! I begin for to see ze moral, ha, ha, ha!”

CHAPTER VI.

The Baron expressed no further wish for instruction, but, instead, he began to show a desire for society.

”Doesn't one fool suffice?” his friend asked.

”Ach, yes, my vise fool; ha, ha, ha! Bot sometimes I haf ze craving for peoples, museec, dancing-in vun vord, society, Bonker!”

”But this is not the season, Baron. You wouldn't mix with any but the best society, would you?”

”Zere are some n.o.bles in town. In my paper I see Lord zis, Duke of zat, in London. Pairhaps my introdogtions might be here now.”

This suggestion seemed to strike Mr Bunker unfavourably.

”My company is beginning to pall, is it, Baron?”

”Ach, no, dear Bonker! I vould merely go out jost vunce or tvice. Haf you no friends now in town?”

An idea seemed to seize Mr Bunker.

”Let me see the paper,” he said.

After perusing it carefully for a little, he at last exclaimed in a tone of pleased discovery, ”Hullo! I see that Lady Tulliwuddle is giving a reception and dance to-night. Most of the smart people in town just now are sure to be there. Would you care to go, Baron?”

”Ach, surely,” said the Baron, eagerly. ”Bot haf you been invited, Bonker?”

”Oh, I used to have a standing invitation to Lady Tulliwuddle's dances, and I'm certain she would be glad to see me again.”

”Can you take me?”

”Of course, my dear Baron, she will be honoured.”

”Goot!” cried the Baron. ”Ve shall go.”

Mr Bunker explained that it was the proper thing to arrive very late, and so it was not until after twelve o'clock that they left the Hotel Mayonaise for the regions of Belgravia. The Baron, primed with a bottle of champagne, and arrayed in a costume which Mr Bunker had a.s.sured him was the very latest extreme of fas.h.i.+on, and which included a scarlet watered silk waistcoat, a pair of white silk socks, and a lavender tie, was in a condition of cheerfulness verging closely on hilarity. Mr Bunker, that, as he said, he might better serve as a foil to his friend's splendour, went more inconspicuously dressed, but was likewise well charged with champagne. He too was in his happiest vein, and the vision of the Baron's finery appeared to afford him peculiar gratification.

Their hansom stopped in front of a large and gaily lit-up mansion, with an awning leading to the door, and a cl.u.s.ter of carriages and footmen by the kerbstone. They entered, and having divested themselves of their coats, Mr Bunker proposed that they should immediately seek the supper-room.

”Bot should I not be first introduced to mine hostess?” asked the Baron.

”My dear Baron! a formal reception of the guests is entirely foreign to English etiquette.”

”Zo? I did not know zat.”