LITMIR.BIZ

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incongruous in his travelling as a plain student in the company of the exquisitely-arrayed New Yorker, and the latter was far too much a man of the world to care what his companion wore. He intended that the Doctor should be introduced to the affectionate skill of a London tailor before he was much older, and he registered a vow that the long yellow hair should be cut. But these details were the result of his showman's intuition; personally, he would as readily have travelled with Claudius had he affected the costume of a shoeblack. He knew that the man was very rich, and he respected his eccentricity for the present. To accomplish the transformation of exterior which he contemplated, from the professional and semi-cynic garb to the splendour of a swell of the period, Mr. Barker counted on some more potent influence than his own. The only point on which his mind was made up was that Claudius must accompany him to America and create a great sensation.

      "I wonder if we shall meet her," remarked Mr. Barker reflectively, when they were seated in the train.

      "Whom?" asked Claudius, who did not intend to understand his companion's chaff.

      But Mr. Barker had shot his arrow, and started cleverly as he answered—

      "Did I say anything? I must have been talking to myself."

      Claudius was not so sure. However, the hint had produced its effect, falling, as it did, into the vague current of his thoughts and giving them direction. He began to wonder whether there was any likelihood of his meeting the woman of whom he had thought so much, and before long he found himself constructing a conversation, supposed to take place on their first encounter, overleaping such trifles as probability, the question of an introduction, and other formalities with the ready agility of a mind accustomed to speculation.

      "The scenery is fine, is it not?" remarked Claudius tritely as they neared Baden.

      "Oh yes, for Europe. We manage our landscapes better in America."

      "How so?"

      "Swivels. You can turn the rocks around and see the other side."

      Claudius laughed a little, but Barker did not smile. He was apparently occupied in inventing a patent transformation landscape on wheels. In reality, he was thinking out a menu for dinner whereby he might feed his friend without starving himself. For Mr. Barker was particular about his meals, and accustomed to fare sumptuously every day, whereas he had observed that the Doctor was fond of sausages and decayed cabbage. But he knew such depraved tastes could not long withstand the blandishments and caressing hypersensualism of Delmonico, if he ever got the Doctor so far.

      Having successfully accomplished the business of dining, Mr. Barker promised to return in an hour, and sallied out to find the British aristocracy, whom he knew. The British aristocracy was taking his coffee in solitude at the principal café, and hailed Mr. Barker's advent with considerable interest, for they had tastes in common.

      "How are you, Duke?"

      "Pretty fit, thanks. Where have you been?"

      "Oh, all over. I was just looking for you."

      "Yes?" said the aristocracy interrogatively.

      "Yes. I want you to introduce me to somebody you know."

      "Pleasure. Who?"

      "She has black eyes and dark hair, very dark complexion, middling height, fine figure; carries an ivory-handled parasol with a big M and a crown." Mr. Barker paused for a look of intelligence on the Englishman's face.

      "Sure she's here?" inquired the latter.

      "I won't swear. She was seen in Heidelberg, admiring views and dropping her parasol about, something like three weeks ago."

      "Oh! ah, yes. Come on." And the British aristocracy settled the rose in his button-hole and led the way. He moved strongly with long steps, but Mr. Barker walked delicately like Agag.

      "By the by, Barker, she is a countrywoman of yours. She married a Russian, and her name is Margaret."

      "Was it a happy marriage?" asked the American, taking his cigar from his mouth.

      "Exceedingly. Husband killed at Plevna. Left her lots of tin."

      They reached their destination. The Countess was at home. The Countess was enchanted to make the acquaintance of Monsieur, and on learning that he was an American and a compatriot, was delighted to see him. They conversed pleasantly. In the course of twenty minutes the aristocracy discovered he had an engagement and departed, but Mr. Barker remained. It was rather stretching his advantage, but he did not lack confidence.

      "So you, too, Countess, have been in Heidelberg this summer?"

      "About three weeks ago. I am very fond of the old place."

      "Lovely, indeed," said Barker. "The castle, the old tower half blown away in that slovenly war—"

      "Oh, such a funny thing happened to me there," exclaimed the Countess Margaret, innocently falling into the trap. "I was standing just at the edge with Miss Skeat—she is my companion, you know—and I dropped my parasol, and it fell rattling to the bottom, and suddenly there started, apparently out of space—"

      "A German professor, seven or eight feet high, who bounded after the sunshade, and bounded back and bowed and left you to your astonishment. Is not that what you were going to say, Countess?"

      "I believe you are a medium," said the Countess, looking at Barker in astonishment. "But perhaps you only guessed it. Can you tell me what he was like, this German professor?"

      "Certainly. He had long yellow hair, and a beard like Rip van Winkle's, and large white hands; and he was altogether one of the most striking individuals you ever saw."

      "It is evident that you know him, Mr. Barker, and that he has told you the story. Though how you should have known it was I—"

      "Guess-work and my friend's description."

      "But how do you come to be intimate with German professors, Mr. Barker? Are you learned, and that sort of thing?"

      "He was a German professor once. He is now an eccentricity without a purpose. Worth millions, and living in a Heidelberg garret, wishing he were poor again."

      "What an interesting creature! Tell me more, please."

      Barker told as much of Claudius's history as he knew.

      "Too delightful!" ejaculated the Countess Margaret, looking out of the window rather pensively.

      "Countess," said the American, "if I had enjoyed the advantage of your acquaintance even twenty-four hours I would venture to ask leave to present my friend to you. As it is—" Mr. Barker paused.

      "As it is I will grant you the permission unasked," said the Countess quietly, still looking out of the window. "I am enough of an American still to know that your name is a guarantee for any one you introduce."

      "You are very kind," said Mr. Barker modestly. Indeed the name of Barker had long been honourably known in connection with New York enterprise. The Barkers were not Dutch, it is true, but they had the next highest title to consideration in that their progenitor had dwelt in Salem, Massachusetts.

      "Bring him in the morning," said the Countess, after a moment's thought.

      "About two?"

      "Oh no! At eleven or so. I am a very early person. I get up at the screech of dawn."

      "Permit me to thank you on behalf of my friend as well as for myself," said Mr. Barker, bending low over the dark lady's hand as he took his departure.

      "So glad to have seen you. It is pleasant to meet a civilised countryman in these days."

      "It can be nothing to the pleasure of meeting a charming countrywoman," replied Mr. Barker, and he glided from the room.

      The dark lady stood for a moment looking at the door through which her visitor had departed. It was almost nine o'clock by this time, and she rang for lights, subsiding into a low chair while the servant

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