indiscretion were he compelled to talk; while, silent and
brooding in isolated majesty, he looked to perfection
the part of returning exile. So, evidently, thought
Mr. Gallosh.

"His lordship is looking verra well," he confided to
the Count in a respectfully lowered voice.

"The improvement has been remarkable ever since
his foot touched his native heath."

"You don't say so," said Mr. Gallosh, with even
greater interest. "Was he delicate before?"

"A London life, Mr. Gallosh."

"True--true, he'll have been busy seeing his
friends; it'll have been verra wearing."

"The anxiety, the business of being invested,
and so on, has upset him a trifle. You must put
down any little--well, peculiarity to that, Mr. Gallosh."

"I understand--aye, umh'm, quite so. He'll like
to be left to himself, perhaps?"

"That depends on his condition," said the Count
diplomatically.

"It's a great responsibility for a young man; yon's