"Approach her mit a kilt!"

But even those optimistic exhortations left the peer
still melancholy.

"It sounds all very well," said he, "but my clansmen,
as you call 'em, would expect such a devil of a lot
from me too. Old Tulliwuddle spoiled them for any ordinary
mortal. He went about looking like an advertisement
for whisky, and called 'em all by their beastly
Gaelic names. I have never been in Scotland in my
life, and I can't do that sort of thing. I'd merely make
a fool of myself. If I'd had to go to America it
wouldn't have been so bad."

At this weak-kneed confession the Baron could hardly
withhold an exclamation of contempt, but Essington,
with more sympathy, inquired--

"What do you propose to do, then?"

His lordship emptied his glass.

"I wish I had your brains and your way of carrying
things off, Essington!" he said, with a sigh. "If
you got a chance of showing yourself off to Miss Maddison
she'd jump at you!"

A gleam, inspired and humorous, leaped into Essington's