Interna
tional Episode
BY HENRY JAMES, JR., ILL US
TR A TE D FR O M DRAWING S
BY HARRY W. McVICKAR
HARPER & BROTHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
M C M ~ I I
C.CX.
IOAN STACK
Copyright, 1878, liy HAKPKR & BROTHERS.
Copyright, 1892, by HAKI-EK & BROTHERS.
Ail rights reserved.
\JLJL
X6
AN INTERNATIONAL EPISODE
PACK
Frontispiece .... . . . . 1
Tug- boats 3
A Bit of I lie Battery ........ 5
New York Docks 8
I ercy Beaumont 11
Letter of Introduction ..... . 13
Lessons in American ........ 15
Types They Met Down-town 18
Corner of Greenwich Street 20
Weather vane of Church steeple - 21
Mr. \Vestgate 22
View from Wcstgate s Oflice 25
Fall Iliver Steamboat landing 28
Impressions ... 30
Bookishriess of Boston 31
On the Newport Boat 33
Waiters at the Ocean House . U, :i. r >
M rs. Wcstgate 37, 38
A (iuest of Mrs. Westgate 41
The Web Lambeth is Warned Against 44
English Hats ... 46
The American Flag 4H
The Pretty Sister of Mrs. Westgate 51
Money 55
Newport Hocks 58
A Bit of Newport Farm hmd 62
Mrs. Wcstgate s Trap 66
Thames Street (51)
Two Pretty Girls 71
Marquis and Duke s Crown 73
iii
219
PAGE
Decoration t8
Heading. I art II. 83
Duke of Green Erin 86
A Cabby . . . 88
Willie Woodley 93
Decoration .... .... 95
The Duchess s Invitation 100
Bessie Alden . ... . 103
In Hyde Park 105
The Duku ... .109
Parliament Buildings . 113
The Gate 118
Duchess of Suffolk and Lord Chamberlain . , 121
Decoration . . 1 25
Not Such a Fool as He Looks .... . 129
Decorations . 133, 139, 145
The Duchess s Cards .... . 149
"Mrs. Westgate glanced at the clock " . . 150
Bessie is Fond of Travelling . ... 151
The Duchess . . ... 153
Journal .... .... 155
The Branches .... 157
Writing . 159
Decoration , ... . 161
Finis . 162
Port J
OUR years
ago in
1874 two young
Englishmen had oc
casion to go to the
United States. They
crossed the ocean at
midsummer, and, ar
riving in New York on the first day
of August, were ranch struck with
the fervid temperature of that city.
Disembarking upon the wharf, they
climbed into one of those huge high-
hung coaches which convey passen
gers to the hotels, and, with a great
deal of bouncing and bumping, took
their course through Broadway. The
midsummer aspect of New
York is not, perhaps, the
most favorable one ; still, it
is not without its pictu
resque and even brilliant
side. Nothing could well
resemble less a typical Eng
lish street than the intermi
nable avenue, rich in incon
gruities, through which our
two travellers advanced
looking out on each side of them at the
comfortable animation of the sidewalks,
the high-colored, heterogeneous archi
tecture, the huge, white marble fagades
glittering in the strong, crude light, and
bedizened with gilded lettering, the mul
tifarious awnings, banners, and streamers,
the extraordinary number of omnibuses,
horse-cars, and other democratic vehicles,
the venders of cooling fluids, the white
trousers and big straw-hats of the police
men, the tripping gait of the modish young
persons on the pavement, the general
brightness, newness, juvenility, both of
people and things. The young men had
exchanged few observations ; but in cross
ing Union Square, in front of the monu
ment to Washington in the very shadow,
indeed, projected by the image of the
pater patrice one of them remarked to
the other, "It seems a rum-looking place."
"Ah, very odd, very odd," said the
other, who was the clever man of the
two.
" Pity it s so beastly hot," resumed the
first speaker, after a pause.
" You know we are in a low latitude,"
said his friend.
" I dare say," remarked the other.
" I wonder," said the second
speaker, presently, "if they can
give one a bath ?"
" I dare say not," rejoined the
other.
" Oh, I say !" cried his com
rade.
This animated discussion was checked
by their arrival at the hotel, which had
been recommended to them by an Amer
ican gentleman whose acquaintance they
made with whom, indeed, they became
very intimate on the steamer, and who
had proposed to accompany them to the
inn and introduce them, in a friendly
way, to the proprietor. This plan, how
ever, had been defeated by their friend s
finding that his "partner" was await
ing him on the wharf, and that his
commercial associate desired him in
stantly to come and give his attention
to certain telegrams received from
St. Louis. But the two English
men, with nothing but their na-
Ju>
*J*
. .
- ,^ .v."
> . >
tional prestige and personal graces to
recommend them, were very well re
ceived at the hotel, which had an air of
capacious hospitality. They found that
a bath was not unattainable, and were in
deed struck with the facilities for pro
longed and reiterated immersion with
which their apartment was supplied. Af
ter bathing a good deal more, indeed,
than they had ever done before on a sin
gle occasion they made their way into
the dining-room of the hotel, which was
a spacious restaurant, with a fountain in
the middle, a great many tall plants in
ornamental tubs, and an array of French
waiters. The first dinner on land after a
sea-voyage is, under any circumstances, a
delightful occasion, and there was some
thing particularly agreeable in the circum
stances in which our young Englishmen
found themselves. They were extremely
good-natured young men ; they were more
observant than they appeared ; in a sort
of inarticulate, accidentally dissirnulative
fashion, they were highly appreciative.
This was, perhaps, especially the case with
the elder, who was also, as I have said,
the man of talent. They sat down at a
little table, which was a very different
affair from the great clattering seesaw in
the saloon of the steamer. The wide
doors and windows of the restaurant stood
open, beneath large awnings, to a wide
pavement, where there were other plants
in tubs and rows of spreading trees, and
beyond which there was a large, shady
square, without any palings, and with mar
ble-paved walks. And above the vivid
verdure rose other facades of white mar
ble and of pale chocolate-colored stone,
squaring themselves against the deep blue
sky. Here, outside, in the light and the
shade and the heat, there was a great
tinkling of the bells of innumerable street
cars, and a constant strolling and shuffling
and rustling of many pedestrians, a large
proportion of whom were young women
in Pompadour-looking dresses. Within,
the place was cool and vaguely lighted,
with the plash of water, the odor of
flowers, and the flitting of French wait
ers, as I have said, upon soundless car
pets.
" It s rather like Paris, you know," said
the younger of our two travellers.
"It s like Paris only more so," his
companion rejoined.
"I suppose it s the French waiters,"
said the first speaker. " Why don t they
have French waiters in London ?"
"Fancy a French waiter at a club," said
his friend.
The young Englishman stared a little,
as if he could not fancy it. " In Paris
I m very apt to dine at a place where
there s an English waiter. Don t you
know what s - his - name s, close to the
thingumbob? They always set an Eng
lish waiter at me. I suppose they think
I can t speak French."
" Well, you can t." And the elder of
the young Englishmen unfolded his
napkin.
His companion took no notice what
ever of this declaration.
say,
he
resumed, in a moment, "I suppose we
must learn to speak American. I
suppose we must take les-
"I can t understand
them," said the clever man.
" What the deuce is he saying ?" asked
his comrade, appealing from the French
waiter.
u Pie is recommending some soft-shell
crabs," said the clever man.
And so, in desultory observation of the
idiosyncrasies of the new society in which
they found themselves, the young English
men proceeded to dine going in largely,
as the phrase is, for cooling draughts and
dishes, of which their attendant offered
them a very long list. After dinner they
went out and slowly walked about the
neighboring streets. The early dusk of
waning summer was coming on, but the
heat was still very great. The pavements
were hot even to the stout boot soles of the
British travellers, and the trees along the
curb-stone emitted strange exotic odors.
The young men wandered through the ad
joining square that queer place without
palings, and with marble walks arranged
in black and white lozenges. There were
a great many benches, crowded with shab
by-looking people, and the travellers re
marked, very justly, that it was not much
like Belgrave Square. On one side was
an enormous hotel, lifting up into the
hot darkness an immense array of open,
brightly lighted windows. At the base
of this populous structure was an eternal
jangle of horse-cars, and all round it, in
the upper dusk, was a sinister hum of
mosquitoes. The ground-floor of the hotel
seemed to be a huge transparent cage,
flinging a wide glare of gaslight into the
street, of which it formed a sort of public
adjunct, absorbing and emitting the pass
ers-by promiscuously. The young Eng
lishmen went in with every one else,
from curiosity, and saw a couple of hun
dred men sitting on divans along a great
marble -paved corridor, with their legs
stretched out, together with several dozen
more standing in a queue, as at the ticket-
office of a railway station, before a brill
iantly illuminated counter of vast extent.
These latter persons, who carried port
manteaus in their hand, had a dejected,
exhausted look ; their garments were not
very fresh, and they seemed to be ren
dering some mysterious tribute to a mag
nificent young man with a waxed mus
tache, and a shirt-front adorned with
diamond buttons, who every now and then
dropped an absent glance over their mul
titudinous patience. They were American
citizens doing homage to a hotel clerk.
10
" I m glad he didn t tell us to go there,"
said one of our Englishmen, alluding to
their friend on the steamer, who had told
them so many things. They walked up
Fifth Avenue, where, for instance, he had
told them that all the first families lived.
But the first families were out of town,
and our young travellers had only the
satisfaction of seeing some of the second
or, perhaps, even the third taking the
evening air upon balconies and high
flights of door-steps, in the streets which
radiate from the more ornamental thor
oughfare. They went a little way down
one of these side streets, and they saw
young ladies in white dresses charm
ing-looking persons seated in graceful
attitudes on the chocolate-colored steps.
In one or two places these young ladies
were conversing across the street with
other young ladies seated in similar post
ures and costumes in front of the opposite
houses, and in the warm night air their
colloquial tones sounded strange in the ears
of the young Englishmen.
One of our friends, never
theless the younger one
intimated that he felt a
disposition to
interrupt a few of these soft familiar
ities; but his companion observed, per
tinently enough, that he had better be
careful. "We must not begin with mak
ing mistakes," said his companion.
" But he told us, you know he told
us," urged the young man, alluding again
to the friend on the steamer.
"Never mind what he told us!" an
swered his comrade, who, if he had greater
talents, was also apparently more of a
moralist.
By bedtime in their impatience to
taste of a terrestrial couch again, our sea
farers went to bed early it was still in
sufferably hot, and the buzz of the mosqui
toes at the open windows might have
passed for an audible crepitation of the
temperature. " We can t stand this, you
know," the young Englishmen said to
each other; and they tossed about all
night more boisterously than they had
tossed upon the Atlantic billows. On
the morrow their first thought was that
they would re-embark that day for Eng
land ; and then it occurred to them that
they might find an asylum nearer at hand.
The cave of ^Eolus became their ideal of
comfort, and they wondered where the
12
Americans went when they wished to
cool off. They had not the least idea,
and they determined to apply for infor
mation to Mr. J. L. Westgate. This was
the name inscribed in a bold hand on the
back of a letter carefully preserved in the
pocket-book of our junior traveller. Be
neath the address, in the left-hand corner
of the envelope, were the words, "Intro
ducing Lord Lambeth and Percy Beau
mont, Esq." The letter had been given
to the two Englishmen by a good friend
of theirs in London, who had been in
America two years previously, and had
singled out Mr. J. L. Westgate from the
many friends he had left there as the
consignee, as it were, of his compatriots.
"He is a capital fellow," the Englishman
in London had said, " and he has got an
awfully pretty wife. lie s tremendously
hospitable lie will do everything in the
world for you ; and as he knows every
one over there, it is quite needless I should
give you any other introduction. Pie
will make you see every one; trust to
him for putting you into circulation.
He has got a tremendously pretty wife."
It was natural that in the hour of trib
ulation Lord Lambeth and Mr. Percy
Beaumont should have bethought them
selves of a gentleman whose attractions
had been thus vividly depicted all the
more so that he lived in Fifth Avenue,
and that Fifth Avenue, as they had ascer
tained the night before, was contiguous to
their hotel. " Ten to one he ll be out of
town," said Percy Beaumont ; " but we can
at least find out where he has gone, and
we can immediately start in pursuit. He
can t possibly have gone to a hotter place,
you know."
" Oh, there s only one hotter place,"
said Lord Lambeth, " and I hope he hasn t
gone there."
They strolled along the shady side of
the street to the number indicated upon
the precious letter. The house presented
an imposing chocolate -colored expanse,
relieved by facings and window cornices
of florid sculpture, and by a couple of
dusty rose-trees which clambered over
the balconies and the portico. This last-
mentioned feature was approached by a
monumental flight of steps.
" Rather better than a London house,"
said Lord Lambeth, looking down from
this altitude, after they had rung the
bell.
" It depends upon what London house
you mean," replied his companion. " You
have a tremendous chance to get wet be
tween the house door and your carriage."
"Well," said Lord Lambeth, glancing
at the burning heavens, "I guess it
doesn t rain so much here !"
The door was opened by a long negro
in a white jacket, who grinned familiarly
when Lord Lambeth asked for Mr. West-
gate.
" He ain t at home, sah ;
he s down town at his o fice."
"Oh, at his office?" said
the visitor. " And when will
he be at home ?"
" Well, sah, when he goes
out dis way in de mo ning, he
ain t liable to come home all
day."
This was discouraging; but the ad
dress of Mr. Westgate s office was freely
imparted by the intelligent black, and
was taken down by Percy Beaumont in
his pocket-book. The two gentlemen
then returned, languidly, to their hotel,
and sent for a hackney-coach, and in this
commodious vehicle they rolled comfort
ably down - town. They measured the
15
whole length of Broadway again, and
found it a path of fire ; and then, deflect
ing to the left, they were deposited by
their conductor before a fresh, light, or
namental structure, ten stories high, in a
street crowded with keen -faced, light-
limbed young men, who were running
about very quickly, and stopping each
other eagerly at corners and in doorways.
Passing into this brilliant building, they
were introduced by one of the keen-faced
young men he was a charming fellow,
in wonderful cream-colored garments and
a hat with a blue ribbon, who had evi
dently perceived them to be aliens and
helpless to a very snug hydraulic eleva
tor, in which they took their place with
many other persons, and which, shooting
upward in its vertical socket, presently
projected them into the seventh horizon
tal compartment of the edifice. Here,
after brief delay, they found themselves
face to face with the friend of their
friend in London. His office was com
posed of several different rooms, and they
waited very silently in one of them after
they had sent in their letter and their
cards. The letter was not one which it
would take Mr. Westgate very long to
16
read, but he came out to speak to them
more instantly than they could have ex
pected ; he had evidently jumped up from
his work. He was a tall, lean personage,
and was dressed all in fresh white linen ;
he had a thin, sharp, familiar face, with an
expression that was at one and the same
time sociable and business-like, a quick, in
telligent eye, and a large brown mustache,
which concealed his mouth and made his
chin beneath it look small. Lord Lambeth
thought he looked tremendously clever.
"How do you do, Lord Lambeth how
do you do, sir?" he said, holding the
open letter in his hand. " I m very glad
to see you ; I hope you re very well.
You had better come in here; I think
it s cooler," and he led the way into an
other room, where there were law-books
and papers, and windows wide open be
neath striped awning. Just opposite one
of the windows, on a line with his eyes,
Lord Lambeth observed the weather-vane
of a church steeple. The uproar of the
street sounded infinitely far below, and
Lord Lambeth felt very high in the air.
k l say it s cooler," pursued their host,
" but everything is relative. How do
you stand the heat 2"
17
"I can t say we like it," said Lord
Lambeth; "but Beaumont likes it bet
ter than I."
" Well, it won t last," Mr. Westgate
very cheerfully declared ; " nothing un
pleasant lasts over here. It was very hot
when Captain Littledale was here ; he
did nothing but drink sherry-cobblers.
He expresses some doubt in his letter
whether I will remember him as if I
didn t remember making six sherry-cob
blers for him one day in about twenty
minutes. I hope you left him well, two
years having elasped since then."
"Oh yes, he s all right," said Lord
Lambeth.
" I am always very glad to see your
countrymen," Mr. Westgate pursued.
" I thought it would be time some of
you should be coming along. A friend
of mine was saying to me only a day or
two ago, It s time for the watermelons
and the Englishmen. "
"The Englishmen and the water
melons just now are about the same
thing," Percy Beaumont said, wiping
his dripping
forehead.
"Ah, well,
g?
we ll put you on ice, as we do the mel
ons. You must go down to Newport."
" We ll go anywhere," said Lord Lam
beth.
" Yes, you want to go to Newport ;
that s what you want to do," Mr. West-
gate affirmed. " But let s see when did
you get here 2"
"Only yesterday," said Percy Beau
mont.
" Ah, yes, by the Russia. Where are
you staying?"
"At the Hanover, I think they call it."
" Pretty comfortable ?" inquired Mr.
Westgate.
" It seems a capital place, but I can t
say we like the gnats," said Lord Lam
beth.
Mr. Westgate stared and laughed. "Oh
no, of course you don t like the gnats.
We shall expect you to like a good many
things over here, but we sha n t insist
upon your liking the gnats; though cer
tainly you ll admit that, as gnats, they
are fine, eh ? But you oughtn t to re
main in the city."
" So we think," said Lord Lambeth.
" If you would kindly suggest some
thing"
& 19
-
Suggest something, my dear sir?"
and Mr. Westgate looked at him, narrow
ing his eyelids. " Open your mouth and
shut your eyes! Leave it to me, and I ll
put you through. It s a matter of na
tional pride with me that all Englishmen
should have a good time ; and as I have
had considerable practice, I have learned
to minister to their wants. I find they
generally want the right thing. So just
please to consider yourselves my proper
ty; and if any one should try to appropri
ate you, please to say, Hands off ; too late
for the market. But let s see," continued
the American, in his slow, humor
ous voice, with a distinctness of ut
terance which appeared to his visit
ors to be a part of a humor
ous intention a strangely
H leisurely speculative voice
for a man evidently so busy
and, as they felt, so professional
" let s see ; are you going to make
something of a stay, Lord Lam
beth ?"
" Oh dear no," said the young
Englishman ; " my cousin was coming
over on some business, so I just came
across, at an hour s notice, for the lark."
"Is it your first visit to the United
States?"
"Oh dear yes."
" I was obliged to come on some busi
ness," said Percy Beaumont, " and I
brought Lambeth along."
"And you have been here before, sir?"
" Never never."
"I thought, from your referring to
business " said Mr. Westgate.
" Oh, you see I m by
way of being a barris
ter," Percy Beaumont
answered. "I know
some people that think
of bringing a suit against
one of your railways,
and they asked me to come over
and take measures accordingly."
Mr. Westgate gave one of his
slow, keen looks again. "What s
your railroad?" he asked.
" The Tennessee Central."
The American tilted back his
chair a little, and poised it an in
stant. " Well, Pin sorry you want
21
T
to attack one of our institutions," he said,
smiling. " But I guess you had better en
joy yourself first!"
"Tin certainly rather afraid I can t
work in this weather," the young barris
ter confessed.
"Leave that to the natives," said Mr.
Westgate. "Leave the Tennessee Cen
tral to me, Mr. Beaumont. Some day
we ll talk it over, and I guess I can make
it square. But I didn t know you Eng
lishmen ever did any work, in the upper
classes."
" Oh, we do a lot of work ; don t we,
Lambeth?" asked Percy Beaumont.
" I must certainly be at home by the
19th of September," said the younger
Englishman, irrelevantly but gently.
" For the shooting, eh ? or is it the
hunting, or the fishing?" inquired his
entertainer.
"Oh, I must be in Scotland,"
said Lord Lambeth, blushing a
little.
" Well, then," rejoined Mr. West-
gate, " you had better amuse your
self first, also. You must go down
and see Mrs. Westgate."
" We should be so happy, if you
would kindly tell us the train," said Percy
Beaumont.
" It isn t a train it s a boat."
"Oh, I see. And what is the name of
a the a town ?"
" It isn t a town," said Mr. Westgate,
laughing. " It s a well, what shall I call
it? It s a watering-place. In short, it s
Newport. You ll see what it is. It s
cool ; that s the principal thing. You
will greatly oblige me by going down
there and putting yourself into the hands
of Mrs. Westgate. It isn t perhaps for
me to say it, but you couldn t be in bet
ter hands. Also in those of her sister,
who is staying with her. She is very
fond of Englishmen. She thinks there
is nothing like them."
u Mrs. Westgate or a her sister?"
asked Percy Beaumont, modestly, yet in
the tone of an inquiring traveller.
" Oh, I mean my wife," said Mr. West-
gate. "I don t suppose my sister-in-law
knows much about them. She has always
led a very quiet life ; she has lived in
Boston."
Percy Beaumont listened with interest.
" That, I believe," he said, " is the most
a intellectual tcwn?"
23
"I believe it is very intellectual. I
don t go there much," responded his host.
"I say, we ought to go there," said
Lord Lambeth to his companion.
" Oh, Lord Lambeth, wait till the
great heat is over," Mr. Westgate inter
posed. " Boston in this weather would
be very trying; it s not the temperature
for intellectual exertion. At Boston, you
know, you have to pass an examination
at the city limits; and when you come
away they give you a kind of degree."
Lord Lambeth stared, blushing a little ;
and Percy Beaumont stared a little also
but only with his fine natural complex
ion glancing aside after a moment to
see that his companion was not looking
too credulous, for he had heard a great
deal of American humor. " I dare say it
is very jolly," said the younger gentle
man.
" I dare say it is," said Mr. Westgate.
"Only I must impress upon you that at
present to-morrow morning, at an early
hour you will be expected at Newport.
We have a house there ; half the people
of New York go there for the summer. I
am not sure that at this very moment my
wife can take you in ; she has got a lot
24
of people staying with her ; I don t know
who they all are ; only she may have no
room. But yon can begin with the hotel,
and meanwhile you can live at rny house.
In that way simply sleeping at the hotel
you will h nd it tolerable. For the rest,
you must make yourself at home at my
place. You mustn t be shy, you know ;
if you are only here for a month, that
will be a great waste of time. Mrs.
Westgate won t neglect you, and you
had better not try to resist her. I
know something about that. I ex
pect you ll find some pretty girls on
the premises. I shall write to my
wife by this afternoon s mail, and
to-morrow morning she and Miss
Alden will look out for you. Just
walk right in and make yourself
comfortable. Your steamer leaves
from this part of the city, and I
will immediately send out and get
you a cabin. Then, at half-past
four o clock, just call for me
here, and I will go with you and
put you on board. It s a big
boat ; you might get lost. A |
few days hence, at the end of
the week, I will come down
to Newport, and see how you are getting
on."
The two young Englishmen inaugu
rated the policy of not resisting Mrs.
Westgate by submitting, with great do
cility and thankfulness, to her husband.
He was evidently a very good fellow,
and he made an impression upon his vis
itors; his hospitality seemed to recom
mend itself consciously with a friendly
wink, as it were as if it hinted, judi
ciously, that you could not possibly make
a better bargain. Lord Lambeth and his
cousin left their entertainer to his labors
and returned to their hotel, where they
spent three or four hours in their respec
tive shower-baths. Percy Beaumont had
suggested that they ought to see some
thing of the town ; but " Oh, d n the
town !" his noble kinsman had rejoined.
They returned to Mr. Westgate s office
in a carriage, with their luggage, very
punctually ; but it must be reluctantly
recorded that, this time, he kept them
waiting so long that they felt themselves
missing the steamer, and were deterred
only by an amiable modesty from dis
pensing with his attendance, and starting
on a hasty scramble to the wharf. But
when at last he appeared, and the car
riage plunged into the purlieus of Broad
way, they jolted and jostled to such good
purpose that they reached the huge white
vessel while the bell for departure was
still ringing, and the absorption of pas
sengers still active. It was indeed, as
Mr. Westgate had said, a big boat, and
his leadership in the innumerable and
interminable corridors and cabins, with
which he seemed perfectly acquainted,
and of which any one and every one ap
peared to have the entree, was very grate
ful to the slightly bewildered voyagers.
He showed them their state-room a spa
cious apartment, embellished with gas-
lamps, mirrors en 2 } i e d, and sculptured
furniture and then, long after they had
been intimately convinced that the steam
er was in motion and launched upon the
unknown stream that they were about to
navigate, he bade them a sociable fare-
o "
well.
"Well, good-bye, Lord Lambeth," he
said ; " good-bye, Mr. Percy Beaumont, I
hope you ll have a good time. Just let
them do what they want with yon. I ll
come down by -and -by and look after
you."
FALL
STEAMBO/
NEWPO!
LEAVES
*~,
The young Englishmen
emerged from their cabin
and amused themselves with wan
dering about the immense labyrin
thine steamer, which struck them
as an extraordinary mixture of a
ship and a hotel. It was dense
ly crowded with passengers, the
larger number of whom appeared
to be ladies and very young chil
dren ; and in the big saloons, orna
mented in white and gold, which
followed each other in surprising
succession, beneath the swinging
gaslight, and among the small side
passages where the negro domes
tics of both sexes assembled with
an air of philosophic leisure, ev
ery one was moving to and fro and
exchanging loud and familiar ob
servations. Eventually, at the in
stance of a discriminating black,
our young men went and had some
"supper "in a wonderful place ar
ranged like a theatre, where, in a
gilded gallery, upon which little
boxes appeared to open, a large orches
tra was playing operatic selections, and,
below, people were handing about bills
of fare, as if they had been programmes.
All this was sufficiently curious ; but the
agreeable thing, later, was to sit out on
one of the great white decks of the
steamer, in the warm, breezy darkness,
and, in the vague starlight, to make out
the line of low, mysterious coast. The
young Englishmen tried American ci
gars those of Mr. Westgate and talked
together as they usually talked, with many
odd silences, lapses of logic, and incon
gruities of transition, like people who
have grown old together, and learned to
supply each other s missing phrases ; or,
more especially, like people thoroughly
conscious of a common point of view, so
that a style of conversation superficially
lacking in finish might suffice for refer
ence to a fund of associations in the light
of which everything was all right.
" We really seem to be going out to
sea," Percy Beaumont observed. "Upon
my word, we are going back to England.
He has shipped us off again. I call that
real mean. :
"I suppose it s all right, said Lord
29
Lambeth. " I want to see
thpse pretty girls at New
port You know he told ns the
place was an island ; and aren t all
islands in the sea?"
Well," resumed the elder trav
eller after a while, " if his
house is as good as his
cigars, we shall do very
well indeed."
" He seems a very good fel
low," said Lord Lambeth, as
if this idea just occurred to
him.
" I say, we had better remain at the
inn," rejoined his companion, present
ly. " I don t think I like the way he
spoke of his house. I don t like stop
ping in the house with such a tremen
dous lot of women."
" Oh, I don t mind," said Lord Lam
beth. And then they smoked a while in
silence. " Fancy his thinking we do no
work in England !" the young man re
sumed.
" I dare say he didn t really think so,"
said Percy Beaumont.
" Well, I guess they don t know much
about England over here !" .declared Lord
Lambeth, humorously. And then there
was another long pause. " He was dev
ilish civil," observed the yonng noble
man.
" Nothing, certainly, could have been
more civil," rejoined his companion.
"Littledale said his wife was great
fun," said Lord Lambeth.
" Whose wife Littledale s T
"This American s Mrs. Westgate.
What s his name? J. L."
Beaumont was silent a moment.
" What was fun to Littledale," he said
at last, rather sententionsly, "may
be death to us."
"What do you mean by that?"
asked his kinsman. " I am as good
a man as Littledale."
" My dear boy, I hope you won t
begin to flirt," said Percy Beaumont.
" I don t care. I dare say I sha n t
begin."
" With a married woman, if she s
bent upon it, it s all very well,"
Beaumont expounded. " But our
11 friend mentioned a young lady
a sister, a sister-in-law. For
God s sake, don t get entangled with
her!"
u How do you mean entangled ?"
" Depend upon it she will try to hook
you."
" Oh, bother!" said Lord Lambeth.
" American girls are very clever," urged
his companion.
" So much the better," the young man
declared.
" I fancy they are always up to some
game of that sort," Beaumont continued.
" They can t be worse than they are in
England," said Lord Lambeth, judicially.
" Ah, but in England," replied Beau
mont, "you have got your natural pro
tectors. You have got your mother and
sisters."
" My mother and sisters " began the
young nobleman, with a certain energy.
But he stopped in time, puffing at his
cigar.
"Your mother spoke to me about it,
with tears in her eyes," said Percy Beau
mont. " She said she felt very nervous.
I promised to keep you out of mischief."
" You had better take care of yourself,"
said the object of maternal and ducal so
licitude.
82
; Ah," rejoined the young barrister, " I
haven t the expectation of a hundred
thousand a year, not to mention other
attractions."
"Well," said Lord Lambeth, "don t
cry out before you re hurt !"
It was certainly very much cooler at
Newport, where our travellers found
themselves assigned to a couple of di
minutive bedrooms in a far-away angle
of an immense hotel. They had gone
ashore in the early summer twilight, and
had very promptly put themselves to
bed; thanks to which circumstance, and
to their having, during the previous hours
in their commodious cabin slept the sleep
of youth and health, they began to feel,
towards eleven o clock, very alert and in-
IL
33
quisitive. They looked out of their win-
dows across a row of small green fields,
bordered with low stone- walls of rude
construction, and saw a deep blue ocean
lying beneath a deep blue sky, and neck
ed now and then with scintillating patch
es of foam. A strong, fresh breeze came
in through the curtainless casements, and
prompted our young men to observe gen
erally that it didn t seem half a bad cli
mate. They made other observations
after they had emerged from their rooms
in pursuit of breakfast a meal of which
they partook in a huge bare hall, where
a hundred negroes in white jackets were
shuffling about upon an un carpeted floor ;
where the flies were superabundant, and
the tables and dishes covered over with a
strange, voluminous integument of coarse
blue gauze ; and where several little boys
and girls, who had risen late, were seated
in fastidious solitude at the morning re
past. These young persons had not the
morning paper before them, but they
were engaged in languid perusal of
the bill of fare.
This latter document was a great
puzzle to our friends, who, on re
flecting that its bewildering catego-
ries had relation to breakfast alone, had
an uneasy prevision of an encyclopaedic
dinner list. They found a great deal of
entertainment at the hotel, an enormous
wooden structure, for the erection of
which it seemed to them that the virgin
forests of the West must have been terri
bly deflowered. It was perforated from
end to end with immense bare corridors,
through which a strong draught was
blowing bearing along wonderful fig
ures of ladies in white morning -dresses
arid clouds of Valenciennes lace, who
seemed to float down the long vistas with
expanded furbelows like angels spread
ing their wings. In front was a gigan
tic veranda, upon which an army might
have encamped a vast wooden terrace,
with a roof as lofty as the nave of a ca
thedral. Here our young Englishmen
enjoyed, as they supposed, a glimpse of
American society, which was distributed
over the measureless expanse in a varie
ty of sedentary attitudes, and appeared
to consist largely of pretty young girls,
dressed as if for a fete champetre,
swaying to and fro in rocking-chairs,
fanning themselves with large straw
fans, and enjoying an enviable ex-
emption from social cares. Lord Lam
beth had a theory, which it might be in
teresting to trace to its origin, that it
would be not only agreeable, but easily
possible, to enter into relations with one
of these young ladies ; and his companion
(as he had done a couple of days before)
found occasion to check the young no
bleman s colloquial impulses.
" You had better take care," said Percy
Beaumont, " or you will have an offended
father or brother pulling out a bowie-
knife."
"I assure you it is all right," Lord
Lambeth replied. " You know the Amer
icans come to these big hotels to make
acquaintances."
" I know nothing about it, and neither
do you," said his kinsman, who, like a
clever man, had begun to perceive that
the observation of American society de
manded a readjustment of one s stand
ard.
" Hang it, then, let s find out !" cried
Lord Lambeth, with some impatience.
"You know I don t want to miss any
thing."
" We will find out," said Percy Beau
mont, very reasonably. "We will go
36
and see Mrs. Westgate, and make all the
proper inquiries."
And so the two inquiring Englishmen,
who had this lady s address inscribed in
her husband s hand upon a card, descend
ed from the veranda of the big hotel and
took their way, according to direction,
along a large, straight road, past a series
of fresh - looking villas embosomed in
shrubs and flowers, and enclosed in an
ingenious variety of wooden palings.
The morning was brilliant and cool, the
villas were smart and snug, and the walk
of the young travellers was very en
tertaining. Everything looked as if it
had received a coat of fresh paint the
day before the red roofs, the green
shutters, the clean, bright browns and
buffs of the house fronts. The flower
beds on the little lawns seemed to spar
kle in the radiant air, and the gravel
in the short carriage sweeps to flash and
twinkle. Along the road came a hun
dred little basket-phaetons, in which, al
most always, a couple of ladies were sit
ting ladies in white dresses and long
white gloves, holding the reins and look
ing at the two Englishmen whose na
tionality was not elusive through thick
blue veils tied tightly about their faces,
as if to guard their complexions. At
last the young men came within sight of
the sea again, and then, having interro
gated a gardener over the paling of a
villa, they turned into an open gate.
Here they found themselves face to face
with the ocean and with a very pictu
resque structure, resembling a magnified
chalet, which was perched upon a green
embankment just above it. The house
had a veranda of extraordinary width all
around it, and a great many doors and
windows standing open to the veranda.
These various apertures had, in common,
such an accessible, hospitable air, such a
breezy flutter within of light curtains,
such expansive thresholds and reassuring
interiors, that our friends hardly knew
which was the regular entrance, and, after
hesitating a moment, presented them
selves at one of the windows. The room
within was dark, but in a moment a grace
ful figure vaguely shaped itself in the
rich-looking gloom, and a lady came to
meet them. Then they saw that she had
been seated at a table writing, and that
she had heard them and had got up. She
stepped out into the light ; she wore a
frank, charming smile, with which she
held out her hand to Percy Beaumont.
" Oh, you must be Lord Lambeth and
Mr. Beaumont," she said. " I have heard
from my husband that you would come.
I am extremely glad to see you." And
she shook hands with each of her visitors.
Her visitors were a little shy, but they
had very good manners ; they responded
with smiles and exclamations, and they
apologized for not knowing the front
door. The lady rejoined, with vivacity,
that when she wanted to see people very
much she did not insist upon those dis
tinctions, and that Mr. Westgate had
written to her of his English friends in
terms that made her really anxious. " He
said you were so terribly prostrated," said
Mrs. Westgate.
"Oh, you mean by the heat?"
replied Percy Beaumont. " We
were rather knocked up, but we
feel wonderfully better. We
had such a jolly a voyage
down here. It s so very good
of you to mind."
" Yes, it s so very kind
of you," murmured
Lord Lambeth.
Mrs. Westgate stood smiling; she was
extremely pretty. " Well, I did mind,"
she said ; "and I thought of sending for
you this morning to the Ocean House.
I am. very glad you are better, and I am
charmed you have arrived. You must
come round to the other side of the
piazza." And she led the way, with a
light, smooth step, looking back at the
young men and smiling.
The other side of the piazza was, as
Lord Lambeth presently remarked, a very
jolly place. It was of the most liberal pro
portions, and with its awnings, its fanci
ful chairs, its cushions and nigs, its view
of the ocean, close at hand, tumbling
along the base of the low cliffs whose
level tops intervened in lawn-like smooth
ness, it formed a charming complement
to the drawing-room. As such it was in
course of use at the present moment ; it
was occupied by a social circle. There
were several ladies and two or three gen
tlemen, to whom Mrs. Westgate proceeded
to introduce the distinguished strangers.
She mentioned a great many names very
freely and distinctly; the young English
men, shuffling about and bowing, were
rather bewildered. But at last they were
42
provided with chairs low, wicker chairs,
gilded, and tied with a great many rib
bons and one of the ladies (a very young
person, with a little snub-nose and several
dimples) offered Percy Beaumont a fan.
The fan was also adorned with pink love-
knots ; but Percy Beaumont declined it,
although he was very hot. Presently,
however, it became cooler; the breeze
from the sea was delicious, the view was
charming, and the people sitting there
looked exceedingly fresh and comfortable.
Several of the ladies seemed to be young
girls, and the gentlemen were slim, fail-
youths, such as our friends had seen the
day before in New York. The ladies
were working upon bands of tapestry,
and one of the young men had an open
book in his lap. Beaumont afterwards
learned from one of the ladies that this
young man had been reading aloud ; that
he was from Boston, and was very fond
of reading aloud. Beaumont said it was
a great pity that they had interrupted
him ; he should like so much (from all he
had heard) to hear a Bostonian read.
Couldn t the young man be induced to
go on ?
"Oh no," said his informant, very
43
freely ; u he wouldn t be able to get the
young ladies to attend to him now."
There was something very friendly,
Beaumont perceived, in the attitude of
the company ; they looked at the young
\ Englishmen with an air of animated sym-
j pathy and interest ; they smiled, brightly
and unanimously, at everything either of
the visitors said. Lord Lambeth and his
companion felt that they were being made
very welcome. Mrs. Westgate seated her-
he could only hope the Englishmen were
fl
(4.
having a good time. " I must say," said
Mrs. Westgate, " that it is no thanks to
him if you are." And she went on to
explain, while she continued that slow-
paced promenade which enabled her well-
adjusted skirts to display themselves so
advantageously, that unfortunately in
America there was no leisure class. It
was Lord Lambeth s theory, freely pro
pounded when the young men were to
gether, that Percy Beaumont was having
a very good time with Mrs. Westgate,
and that, under the pretext of meeting
for the purpose of animated discussion,
they were indulging in practices that
imparted a shade of hypocrisy to the
lady s regret for her husband s absence.
"I assure you we are always discussing
and differing," said Percy Beaumont.
u She is awfully argumentative. Ameri
can ladies certainly don t mind contra
dicting you. Upon my word, I don t
think I was ever treated so by a woman
before. She s so devilish positive."
Mrs. Westgate s positive quality, how
ever, evidently had its attractions, for
Beaumont was constantly at his hostess s
side. He detached himself one day to
the extent of going to New York to talk
79
over the Tennessee Central with Mr.
Westgate ; but he was absent only forty-
eight hours, during which, with Mr. West-
gate s assistance, he completely settled
this piece of business. " They certainly
do things quickly in ]Sew York," he ob
served to his cousin ; and he added that
Mr. Westgate had seemed very uneasy
lest his wife should miss her visitor he
had been in such an awful hurry to send
him back to her. " I m afraid you ll
never come up to an American husband,
if that s what the wives expect," he said
to Lord Lambeth.
Mrs. Westgate, however, was not to en
joy much longer the entertainment with
which an indulgent husband had desired
to keep her provided. On August 21st
Lord Lambeth received a telegram from
his mother, requesting him to return im
mediately to England ; his father had
been taken ill, and it was his filial duty
to come to him.
The young Englishman was visibly an
noyed. " What the deuce does it mean T
he asked of his kinsman. "What am I
to do ?"
Percy Beaumont was annoyed as well ;
he had deemed it his duty, as I have nar-
rated, to write to the duchess, but he had
not expected that this distinguished wom
an would act so promptly upon his hint.
" It means," he said, " that your father is
laid up. I don t suppose it s anything
serious ; but you have no option. Take
the first steamer ; but don t be alarmed."
Lord Lambeth made his farewells ; but
the few last words that he exchanged
with Bessie Alden are the only ones that
have a place in our record. " Of course
I needn t assure you," he said, "that if
you should come to England next year, I
expect to be the first person that you
inform of it."
Bessie Alden looked at him a little and
she smiled. " Oh, if we come to Lon
don," she answered, " I should think you
would hear of it."
Percy Beaumont returned with his
cousin, and his sense of duty compelled
him, one windless afternoon, in mid-At
lantic, to say to Lord Lambeth that he
suspected that the duchess s telegram
was in part the result of something he
himself had written to her. " I wrote to
] ier as I explicitly notified you I had
promised to do that you were extremely
interested in a little American girl."
81
Lord Lambeth was extremely angry,
and he indulged for some moments in
the simple language of indignation. But
I have said- that he was a reasonable
young man, and 1 can give no better
proof of it than the fact that he remarked
to his companion at the end of half an
hour, " You were quite right, after all.
I am very much interested in her. Only,
to be fair," he added, "you should have
told my mother also that she is not
seriously interested in me."
Percy Beaumont gave a little laugh.
" There is nothing so charming as mod
esty in a young man in your position.
That speech is a capital proof that you
are sweet on her."
"She is not interested she is not!"
Lord Lambeth repeated.
"My dear fellow," said his companion,
"you are very far gone. *
N point of fact, as Percy
Beaumont would have said, Mrs.
Westgate disembarked on May
18th on the British coast. She
was accompanied by her sister,
but she was not attended by any
other member of her family.
To the deprivation of her husband s so
ciety Mrs. Westgate was, however, habitu
ated ; she had made half a dozen journeys
to Europe without him, and she now ac
counted for his absence, to interrogative
friends on this side of the Atlantic, by al
lusion to the regrettable but conspicuous
fact that in America there was no leisure
class. The two ladies came up to London
and alighted at Jones s Hotel, where Mrs.
Westgate, who had made on former oc
casions the most agreeable impression at
this establishment, received an obsequi-
ous greeting. Bessie Alden had felt much
excited about coming to England; she
had expected the "associations" would
be very charming, that it would be an
infinite pleasure to rest her eyes upon
the things she had read about in the poets
and historians. She was very fond of the
poets and historians, of the picturesque,
of the past, of retrospect, of mementos
and reverberations of greatness ; so that
on coining into the great English world,
where strangeness and familiarity would
go hand in hand, she was prepared for
a multitude of fresh emotions. They
began very promptly these tender, flut
tering sensations; they began with the
sight of the beautiful English landscape,
whose dark richness was quickened and
brightened by the season ; with the car
peted fields and flowering hedge-rows, as
she looked at them from the window of
the train ; with the spires of the rural
churches peeping above the rook-haunted
tree -tops; with the oak -studded parks,
the ancient homes, the cloudy light, the
speech, the manners, the thousand differ
ences. Mrs. Westgate s impressions had,
of course, much less novelty and keen
ness, and she gave but a wandering atten-
tion to her sister s ejaculations and rhap
sodies.
" You know rny enjoyment of England
is not so intellectual as Bessie s," she said
to several of her friends in the course of
her visit to this country. "And yet if it
is not intellectual, I can t say it is phys
ical. I don t think I can quite say what
it is my enjoyment of England." When
once it was settled that the two ladies
should come abroad and should spend a
few weeks in England on their way to
the Continent, they of course exchanged
a good many allusions to their London
acquaintance.
" It will certainly be much nicer hav
ing friends there," Bessie Alden had said
one day, as she sat on the sunny deck of
the steamer at her sister s feet, on a large
blue rug.
"Whom do you mean by friends?"
Mrs. Westgate asked.
"All those English gentlemen whom
you have known and entertained. Cap
tain Littledale, for instance. And Lord
Lambeth and Mr. Beaumont," added Bes
sie Alden.
"Do you expect them to give us a
very grand reception ?"
85
Bessie reflected a moment; she was ad
dicted, as we know, to reflection. "Well,
yes."
"My poor, sweet child!" murmured her
sister.
" What have I said that is so silly ?"
asked Bessie.
" You are a little too simple ; just a
little. It is very becoming, but it pleases
people at your expense."
"I am certainly too simple to under
stand you," said Bessie.
" Shall I tell you a story ?" asked her
sister.
" If you would be so good. That is
what they do to amuse simple people."
Mrs. Westgate consulted her memory,
while her companion sat gazing at the
shining sea. "Did you ever hear of the
Duke of Green-Erin?"
" I think not," said Bessie.
" Well, it s no matter," her sister went
on.
It s a proof of my simplicity."
My story is meant to illustrate that of
some other people," said Mrs. West-
gate. " The Duke of Green-Erin is
what they call in England a great
swell, and some five years ago he came
8(3
to America, He spent most of his time in
New York, and in New York he spent his
days and his nights at the Butterworths .
Yon have heard, at least, of the Butter-
worths. Bien. They did everything in
the world for him they turned them
selves inside out. They gave him a doz
en dinner-parties and balls, and were the
means of his being invited to fifty more.
At first he used to come into Mrs. Butter-
worth s box at the opera in a tweed trav
elling suit; but some one stopped that.
At any rate, he had a beautiful time, and
they parted the best friends in the world.
Two years elapse, and the Butterworths
come abroad and go to London. The
first thing they see in all the papers in
England those things are in the most
prominent place is that the Duke of
Green-Erin has arrived in town for the
season. They wait a little, and then Mr.
Butterworth as polite as ever goes
and leaves a card. They wait a little
more ; the visit is not returned ; they
wait three weeks silence de mort the
duke gives no sign. The Butterworths
see a lot of other people, put down the
Duke of Green-Erin as a rude, ungrate
ful man, and forget all about him. One
fine day they go to the Ascot races, and
there they meet him face to face. He
stares a moment, and then comes up to
Mr. Butterworth, taking something from
his pocket-book something which proves
to be a bank-note. < I m glad to see you,
Mr. Butterworth, he says, so that I can
pay you that 10 I lost to you in New
York. I saw the other day you remem
bered our bet; here are the 10, Mr.
Butterworth. Good-bye, Mr. Butter-
worth. And off he goes, and that s the
last they see of the Duke of Green-Erin."
"Is that your story?" asked Bessie
Alden.
" Don t you think it s interesting?" her
sister replied.
" I don t believe it," said the young girl.
"Ah," cried Mrs. Westgate, " you are
not so simple, after all ! Believe it or
riot, as you please ; there is no smoke
without fire."
" Is that the way," asked Bessie, after
a moment, " that you expect your friends
to treat you ?"
" I defy them to treat me very ill, be
cause I shall not give them the oppor
tunity. With the best will in the world,,
in that case they can t be very offensive."
Bessie Alden was silent a moment. "I
don t see what makes you talk that way,"
she said. " The English are a great peo
ple."
"Exactly; and that is just the way
they have grown great by dropping you
when you have ceased to be useful. Peo
ple say they are not clever ; but I think
they are very clever."
" You know you have liked them all
the Englishmen you have seen," said
Bessie.
" They have liked me," her sister re
joined ; " it would be more correct to
say that. And, of course, one likes that."
Bessie Alden resumed for some mo
ments her studies in sea-green. "Well,"
she said, " whether they like me or not, I
mean to like them. And, happily," she
added, " Lord Lambeth does not owe me
10."
During the first few days after their
arrival at Jones s Hotel our charming
Americans were much occupied with
what they would have called looking
about them. They found occasion to
make a large number of purchases, and
their opportunities for conversation were
such only as were offered by the defer-
ential London shopmen. Bessie Alden,
even in driving from the station, took an
immense fancy to the British metropolis,
and at the risk of exhibiting her as a
young woman of vulgar tastes, it must
be recorded that for a considerable period
she desired no higher pleasure than to
drive about the crowded streets in a hari-
som cab. To her attentive eyes they were
full of a strange, picturesque life, and it
is at least beneath the dignity of our his
toric muse to enumerate the trivial ob
jects and incidents which this simple
young lady from Boston found ser enter 1
taining. It may be freely mentioned,
however, that whenever, after a round of
visits in Bond Street and Regent Street,
she was about to return with her sister
to Jones s Hotel, she made an earnest
request that they should be driven home
by way of Westminster Abbey. She had
begun by asking whether it would not
be possible to take in the Tower on the
way to their lodgings ; but it happened
that at a more primitive stage of her
culture Mrs. Westgate had paid a visit
to this venerable monument, which she
spoke of ever afterwards vaguely as a
dreadful disappointment ; so that she ex-
90
pressed the liveliest disapproval of any
attempt to combine historical researches
with the purchase of hair -brushes and
note-paper. The most she would consent
to do in this line was to spend half an
hour at Madame Tussaud s, where she saw
several dusty wax effigies of members of
the royal family. She told Bessie that
if she wished to go to the Tower she
must get some one else to take her.
Bessie expressed hereupon an earnest dis
position to go alone ; but upon this pro
posal as well, Mrs. Westgate sprinkled
cold water.
"Remember," she said, "that you are
not in your innocent little Boston. It is
not a question of walking up and down
Beacon Street." Then she went on to
explain that there were two classes of
American girls in Europe those that
walked about alone and those that did
not. " You happen to belong, my dear,"
she said to her sister, " to the class that
does not."
" It is only," answered Bessie, laugh
ing, "because you happen to prevent
me." And she devoted much private
meditation to this question of effecting a
visit to the Tower of London.
91
Suddenly it seemed as if the problem
might be solved ; the two ladies at Jones s
Hotel received a visit from Willie Wood-
ley. Such was the social appellation of
a young American who had sailed from
New York a few days after their own
departure, and who, having the privilege
of intimacy with them in that city, had
lost no time, on his arrival in London, in
coming to pay them his respects. He
had, in fact, gone to see them directly
after going to see his tailor, than which
there can be no greater exhibition of
promptitude on the part of a young
American who had just alighted at the
Charing Cross Hotel. He was a slim,
pale youth, of the most amiable dispo
sition, famous for the skill with which
he led the " German " in New York.
Indeed, by the young ladies who habitu
ally figured in this Terpsichorean revel
he was believed to be " the best dancer
in the world ;" it was in these terms that
he was always spoken of, and that his
identity was indicated. He was the gen
tlest, softest young man it was possible
to meet ; he was beautifully dressed
"in the English style" and he knew
an immense deal about London. He
92
had been at Newport during the previ
ous summer, at the time of our young
Englishmen s visit, and he took extreme
pleasure in the society of Bessie Alden,
whom he always addressed as "Miss Bes
sie." She immediately arranged with
him, in the presence of her sister, that he
should conduct her to the scene of Anne
Boleyn s execution.
" You may do as you please," said Mrs.
Westgate. " Only if you desire the in
formation it is not the custom here for
young ladies to knock about London with
young men."
Miss Bessie has waltzed with me
so often," observed Willie Woodley ;
"she can surely go out with me in a
hansom !"
" I consider waltzing," said Mrs. 4HHh v 1L ;
Westgate, " the most innocent pleasure
of our time."
"It s a compliment to our time!"
exclaimed the young man, with a little
laugh in spite of himself.
"I don t see why I should regard
what is done here," said Bessie Alden.
"Why should I suffer the restrictions
of a society of which I enjoy none of
the privileges?"
" That s very good very good," mur
mured Willie Woodley.
" Oh, go to the Tower, and feel the
axe, if you like," said Mrs. Westgate. " I
consent to your going with Mr. Woodley;
but I should not let you go with an Eng
lishman."
"Miss Bessie wouldn t care to go with
an Englishman !" Mr. Woodley declared,
with a faint asperity that was, perhaps,
not unnatural in a young man, who, dress
ing in the manner that I have indicated,
and knowing a great deal, as I have said,
about London, saw no reason for drawing
these sharp distinctions. He agreed upon
a day with Miss Bessie a day of that
same week.
An ingenious mind might, perhaps,
trace a connection between the young
girl s allusion to her destitution of social
privileges and a question she asked on
the morrow, as she sat w r ith her sister at
lunch.
" Don t you mean to write to to any
one?" said Bessie.
"I wrote this morning to Captain Lit-
tledale," Mrs. Westgate replied.
" But Mr. Woodley said that Captain
Littledale had gone to India."
He said he thought he had heard so ;
lie knew nothing about it."
For a moment Bessie Alden said noth
ing more ; then, at last, " And don t you
intend to write to to Mr. Beaumont?"
she inquired.
" You mean to Lord Lambeth," said
her sister.
" I said Mr. Beaumont, because he was
so good a friend of yours."
Mrs. Westgate looked at the young
girl with sisterly candor. " I don t care
two straws for Mr. Beaumont."
" You were certainly very nice to him."
" I am nice to every one," said Mrs.
Westgate, simply.
" To every one but me," rejoined
Bessie, smiling.
Her sister continued to look at her;
then, at last, " Are you in love with Lord
Lambeth f she asked.
The young girl stared a moment, and
the question was apparently too humor
ous even to make her blush. " Not that
I know of," she answered.
95
" Because, if you are," Mrs. Westgate
went on, " I shall certainly not send for
him."
" That proves what I said," declared
Bessie, smiling " that you are not nice
to me."
" It would be a poor service, my dear
child," said her sister.
"In what sense? There is nothing
against Lord Lambeth that I know of."
Mrs. Westgate was silent a moment.
O
"You are in love with him, then?"
Bessie stared again ; but this time she
blushed a little. " Ah ! if you won t be
serious," she answered, " we will not men
tion him again."
For some moments Lord Lambeth was
not mentioned again, and it was Mrs.
Westgate who, at the end of this period,
reverted to him. " Of course I will let
him know we are here, because 1 think
he would be hurt justly enough if we
should go away without seeing him. It
is fair to give him a chance to come and
thank me for the kindness we showed
him. But I don t want to seem eager."
"Neither do I," said Bessie, with a
little laugh.
" Though I confess," added her sister,
9C>
"that I am curious to see how he will
behave."
" He behaved very well at Newport."
"Newport is not London. At New
port he could do as he liked ; but here it
is another affair. He has to have an eye
to consequences."
"If he had more freedom, then, at
Newport," argued Bessie, " it is the more
to his credit that he behaved well ; and if
he has to be so careful here, it is possible
he will behave even better."
"Better better," repeated her sister.
" My dear child, what is your point of
view ?"
"How do you mean my point of
view ?"
" Don t you care for Lord Lambeth a
little?"
This time Bessie Alden was displeased ;
she slowly got up from the table, turning
her face away from her sister. " You
will oblige me by not talking so," she
said.
Mrs. Westgate sat watching her for
some moments as she moved slowly about
the room and went and stood at the win
dow. " I will write to him this after
noon," she said at last.
97
"Do as you please !" Bessie answered ;
and presently she turned round. "I am
not afraid to say that I like Lord Lam
beth. I like him very much."
" He is not clever," Mrs. Westgate de
clared.
" Well, there have been clever people
whom I have disliked," said Bessie Alden ;
" so that I suppose I may like a stupid
one. Besides, Lord Lambeth is not
stupid."
" Not so stupid as he looks !" exclaimed
her sister, smiling.
" If I were in love with Lord Lambeth,
as you said just now, it would be bad
policy on your part to abuse him."
" My dear child, don t give me lessons
in policy!" cried Mrs. Westgate. "The
policy I mean to follow is very deep."
The young girl began to walk about
the room again ; then she stopped before
her sister. " I have never heard in the
course of five minutes," she said, "so
many hints and innuendoes. I wish you
would tell me in plain English what you
mean."
" I mean that you may be much an
noyed."
" That is still only a hint," said Bessie.
Her sister looked at her, hesitating an
instant. " It will be said of you that you
have come after Lord Lambeth that you
followed him."
Bessie Alden threw back her pretty
head like a startled hind, and a look flashed
into her face that made Mrs. Westgate
rise from her chair. "Who says such
things as that?" she demanded.
"People here."
" I don t believe it," said Bessie.
"You have a very convenient faculty
of doubt. But my policy will be, as I
say, very deep. 1 shall leave you to find
out this kind of thing for yourself."
Bessie fixed her eyes upon her sister,
and Mrs. Westgate thought for a mo
ment there were tears in them. "Do
they talk that way here ?" she asked.
" You will see. I shall leave you
alone."
"Don t leave me alone," said Bessie Al
den. " Take me away."
" No ; I want to see what you make of
it," her sister continued.
" I don t understand."
" You will understand after Lord Lam
beth has come," said Mrs. Westgate, with
a little laugh.
The two ladies had arranged that on
this afternoon Willie Wood ley should go
with them to Hyde Park, where Bessie
Alderi expected to derive much entertain
ment from sitting on a little green chair,
under the great trees, beside Rotten Row.
The want of a suitable escort had hitherto
rendered this pleasure inaccessible ; but
no escort now, for such an expedition,
could have been more suitable than their
devoted young countryman, whose mis
sion in life, it might almost be said, was
to find chairs for ladies, and who appeared
on the stroke of half past five with a
white camellia in his button-hole.
" I have written to Lord Lambeth, my
dear," said Mrs. Westgate to her sister,
on coming into the room where Bessie
Alden, drawing on her long gray gloves,
was entertaining their visitor.
Bessie said nothing, but Willie Wood-
ley exclaimed that his lordship was in
town ; he had seen his name in the Morn
ing Post.
"Do you read the Morning Post?"
asked Mrs. Westgate.
"Oh yes ; it s great fun," Willie Wood-
ley affirmed.
I want
so to see
100
it," said Bes-
sie ; " there is so much about it in Thack
eray."
" I will send it to you every morning,"
said Willie Woodley.
He found them what Bessie Alden
thought excellent places, under the great
trees, beside the famous avenue whose
humors had been made familiar to the
young girl s childhood by the pictures in
Punch. The day was bright and warm,
and the crowd of riders and spectators,
and the great procession of carriages,
were proportionately dense and brilliant.
The scene bore the stamp of the London
Season at its height, and Bessie Alden
found more entertainment in it than she
was able to express to her companions.
She sat silent, under her parasol, and her
imagination, according to its wont, let it
self loose into the great changing assem
blage of striking and suggestive figures.
They stirred up a host of old impressions
and preconceptions, and she found her
self fitting a history to this person and a
theory to that, and making a place for
them all in her little private museum of
types. But if she said little, her sister on
one side and Willie Woodley on the other
expressed themselves in lively alternation.
101
Look at that green dress with bine
flounces," said Mrs. Westgate. u Quelle
toilette r
" That s the Marquis of Blackborongh,"
said the young man "the one. in the
wliite coat. I heard him speak the other
night in the House of Lords ; it was some
thing about ramrods ; he called them
wamwods. He s an awful swell."
"Did you ever see anything like the
way they are pinned back ?" Mrs. West-
gate resumed. " They never know where
to stop."
" They do nothing but stop," said
Willie Woodley. " It prevents them
from walking. Here comes a great ce
lebrity, Lady Beatrice Bellevue. She s
awfully fast ; see what little steps she
takes."
" Well, my dear," Mrs. Westgate pur
sued, " I hope you are getting some ideas
for your couturiere?"
" I am getting plenty of ideas," said
Bessie, " but I don t know that my cou-
turiere would appreciate them."
Willie Woodley presently perceived a
friend on horseback, who drove up beside
the barrier of the Row and beckoned to
him. He went forward, and the crowd
102
of pedestrians closed about him, so that
for some ten minutes he was hidden from
sight. At last he reappeared, bringing
a gentleman with him a gentleman
whom Bessie at first supposed to be his
friend dismounted. But at a second
glance she found herself looking at Lord
Lambeth, who was shaking hands with
her sister.
" I found him over there," said
Willie Woodley,
"and I told him you ^
were here."
And then Lord
Lambeth, touching
his hat a little, shook
hands with Bessie.
"Fancy your being
here!" he said. He
was blushing and
smiling; he look
ed very hand
some, and he had
a kind of splen
dor that he had not had in America
sie Alden s imagination, as we know, was
just then in exercise ; so that the tall
young Englishman, as he stood there look
ing down at her, had the benefit of it.
Bes
1U3
" He is handsomer and more splendid
than anything I have ever seen," she said
to herself. And then she remembered
that he was a marquis, and she thought he
looked like a marquis.
"I say, you know," he cried, "you
ought to have let a man know you were
here!"
" I wrote to you an hour ago," said
Mrs. Westgate.
" Doesn t all the world know it ?" asked
Bessie, smiling.
" I assure you I didn t know it !" cried
Lord Lambeth. " Upon my honor, I
hadn t heard of it. Ask Woodley, now ;
had I, Woodley 2"
" Well, T think you are rather a hum
bug," said Willie Woodley.
" You don t believe that do you, Miss
Alderi ?" asked his lordship. "You don t
believe I m a humbug, eh?"
" No," said Bessie, " I don t."
"You are too tall to stand up, Lord Lam
beth," Mrs. Westgate observed. " You
are only tolerable when you sit down.
Be so good as to get a chair."
He found a chair and placed it side-
wise, close to the two ladies. " If I
hadn t met Woodley I should never have
found you," lie went on. " Should I,
Woodley f
" Well, I guess not," said the young
American.
" Not even with my letter ?" asked Mrs.
Westgate.
" Ah, well, I haven t got your letter
yet; I suppose I shall get it this even
ing. It was awfully kind of you to
write."
" So I said to Bessie," observed Mrs.
Westgate.
" Did she say so, Miss Alden ?" Lord
Lambeth inquired. " I dare say you
have been here a month."
"We have been here three," said Mrs.
Westgate.
" Have you been here three
months ?" the young man
asked again of Bessie.
" It seems a long time,"
Bessie answered.
" I say, after that you had
better not call me a
humbug!" cried Lord
Lambeth. " I have
only been in town
three weeks; but you
must have been hid-
ing away ; I haven t seen you any
where."
" Where should yon have seen ns
where should we have gone ?" asked Mrs.
Westgate.
" You should have gone to Hurling-
ham," said Woodley.
" No ; let Lord Lambeth tell us," Mrs.
Westgate insisted.
" There are plenty of places to go to,"
said Lord Lambeth; "each one stupider
than the other. I mean people s houses;
they send you cards."
" No one has sent us cards," said Bessie.
" We are very quiet," her sister de
clared. " We are here as travellers."
" We have been to Madame Tussaud s,"
Bessie pursued.
" Oh, I say !" cried Lord Lambeth.
" We thought we should find your im
age there," said Mrs. Westgate "yours
and Mr. Beaumont s."
" In the Chamber of Horrors ?" laughed
the young man.
"It did duty very well for a party,"
said Mrs. Westgate. " All the women
were decoUeteex, and many of the figures
looked as if they could speak if they
tried."
106
re-
"Upon my word," Lord Lambeth
joined, " you see people at London parties
that look as if they couldn t speak if they
tried."
" Do you think Mr. Woodley could find
us Mr. Beaumont ?" asked Mrs. Westgate.
Lord Lambeth stared and looked round
him. "I dare say he could. Beaumont
often comes here. Don t you think you
could find him, Woodley? Make a dive
into the crowd."
" Thank you ; I have had enough div
ing," said Willie Woodley. " I will wait
till Mr. Beaumont comes to the surface."
"I will bring him to see you," said
Lord Lambeth ; " where are you stay
ing?"
u You will find the address in my let
ter Jones s Hotel."
"Oh, one of those places just out of
Piccadilly ? Beastly hole, isn t it ?" Lord
Lambeth inquired.
" I believe it s the best hotel in London,"
said Mrs. Westgate.
"But they give you awful rubbish to
eat, don t they ?" his lordship went on.
" Yes," said Mrs. Westgate.
" I always feel so sorry for the people
that come up to town and go to live in
107
those places," continued the young man.
" They eat nothing but filth."
"Oh, I say !" cried Willie Woodley.
"Well, how do you like London, Miss
Alden ?" Lord Lambeth asked, unper
turbed by this ejaculation.
" I think it s grand," said Bessie Alden.
"My sister likes it, in spite of the
1 filth! " Mrs. Westgate exclaimed.
" I hope you are going to stay a long
time."
" As long as I can," said Bessie.
" And where is Mr. Westgate ?" asked
Lord Lambeth of this gentleman s wife.
" He s where he always is in that tire
some "New York."
"He must be tremendously clever,"
said the young man.
" I suppose he is," said Mrs. Westgate.
Lord Lambeth sat for nearly an hour
with his* American friends ; but it is not
our purpose to relate their conversation in
full. He addressed a great many remarks
to Bessie Alden, and finally turned tow
ards her altogether, while Willie Wood-
ley entertained Mrs. Westgate. Bessie
herself said very little; she was on her
guard, thinking of what her sister had said
to her at lunch. Little by little, however,
108
she intersted herself in Lord Lambeth
again, as she had done at Newport; only
it seemed to her that here he might be
come more interesting. He would be an
unconscious part of the antiquity, the im-
pressiveness, the picturesqneness, of Eng
land ; and poor Bessie Alden, like many
a Yankee maiden, was terribly at the
mercy of picturesqneness.
" I have often wished I were at New
port again," said the young man. " Those
days I spent at your sister s were awfully
jolly."
" We enjoyed them very much ; I hope
your father is better."
" Oh dear, yes. When I got to Eng
land he was out grouse-shooting. It was
what you call in America a gigantic fraud.
My mother had got nervous. My three
weeks at Newport seemed like a happy
dream."
" America certainly is very different
from England," said Bessie.
" I hope you like England better, eh ?"
Lord Lambeth rejoined, almost persua
sively.
" No Englishman can ask that seriously
of a person of another country."
Her companion looked at her for a
109
moment. "You mean it s a matter of
course ?"
"If I were English," said Bessie, "it
would certainly seem to me a matter of
course that every one should be a good
patriot."
" Oh dear, yes, patriotism is every
thing," said Lord Lambeth, not quite
following, but very contented. " Now,
what are you going to do here ?"
" On Thursday I am ^oing to the
Tower."
"The Tower?"
"The Tower of London. Did you
never hear of it ?"
" Oh yes, I have been there," said Lord
Lambeth. " I was taken there by my
governess when I was six years old. It s
a rum idea, your going there."
"Do give me a few more rum ideas,"
said Bessie. " I want to see everything
of that sort. I am going to Hampton
Court, and to Windsor, and to the Dul-
wich Gallery."
Lord Lambeth seemed greatly amused.
" I wonder you don t go to the Bosher-
ville Gardens."
"Are they interesting?" asked Bessie.
" Oli, wonderful !"
no
" Are they very old ? That s all I care
for," said Bessie.
" They are tremendously old ; they are
falling to ruins."
"I think there is nothing so charming
as an old ruinous garden," said the young
girl. " We must certainly go there."
Lord Lambeth broke out into merri
ment. " I say, Woodley," he cried," here s
Miss Alden wants to go to the Rosher-
ville Gardens !"
Willie Woodley looked a little blank ;
he was caught in the fact of ignorance of
an apparently conspicuous feature of Lon
don life. But in a moment he turned it
off. " Very well," lie said, " I ll write
for a permit."
Lord Lambeth s exhilaration increased.
" Gad, I believe you Americans would go
anywhere !" lie cried.
We wish to go to Parliament," said
Bessie. " That s one of the first things."
" Oh, it would bore you to death !"
cried the young man.
" We wish to hear you speak."
"I never speak except to young la
dies," said Lord Lambeth, smiling.
Bessie Alden looked at him a while,
smiling, too, in the shadow of her para-
111
sol. " You are very strange," she mur
mured. "I don t think I approve of
you."
"Ah, now, don t be severe, Miss Al
den," said Lord Lambeth, smiling still
more. " Please don t be severe. I want
you to like me awfully."
" To like you awfully? You must not
laugh at me, then, when I make mistakes.
I consider it my right, as a free-born
American, to make as many mistakes as
I choose."
"Upon my word I didn t laugh at
you," said Lord Lambeth.
" And not only that," Bessie went on ;
" but I hold that all my mistakes shall be
set down to my credit. You must think
the better of me for them."
" I can t think better of you than I do,"
the young man declared.
Bessie Alden looked at him a moment.
" You certainly speak very well to young
ladies. But why don t you address the
House ? isn t that what they call it ?"
" Because I have nothing to say," said
Lord Lambeth.
" Haven t you a great position ?" asked
Bessie Alden.
He looked a moment at the back of his
112
glove. "I ll set that down," he said, "as
one of your, mistakes to your credit."
And as if he disliked talking about his
position, he changed the subject. " I
wish you would let me go with you to
the Tower, and to Hampton Court, and
to all those other places."
" We shall be most happy," said Bessie.
"And of course I shall be delighted to
show you the House of Lords some day
that suits you. There are a lot of things
I want to do for you. I want to make
you have a good time. And I should
like very much to present some of my
friends to you, if it wouldn t bore you.
Then it would be awfully kind of you to
come down to Branches."
"We are much obliged to you, Lord
Lambeth," said Bessie.
"What is Branches?"
"It s a house in the M
country. I think you
might like it."
Willie Woodley and
Mrs. Westgate at this
moment were sitting in silence, and the
young man s ear caught these last words
of Lord Lambeth s. " He s inviting Miss
Bessie to one of his castles," he murmured
to his companion.
Mrs. Westgate, foreseeing what she
mentally called "complications," imme
diately got up ; and the two ladies, tak
ing leave of Lord Lambeth, returned,
under Mr. Woodley s conduct, to Jones s
Hotel.
Lord Lambeth came to see them on the
morrow, bringing Percy Beaumont with
him the latter having instantly declared
his intention of neglecting none of the
usual offices of civility. This declaration,
however, when his kinsman informed
him of the advent of their American
friends, had been preceded by another
remark.
" Here they are, then, and you are in
for it."
" What am I in for ?" demanded Lord
Lambeth.
" I will let your mother give it a name.
With all respect to whom," added Percy
Beaumont, " I must decline on this occa
sion to do any more police duty. Her
Grace must look after you herself."
" I will give her a chance," said her
Grace s son, a trifle grimly. " I shall
make her go and see them."
" She won t do it, my boy."
" We ll see if she doesn t," said Lord
Lambeth.
But if Percy Beaumont took a sombre
view of the arrival of the two ladies at
Jones s Hotel, he was sufficiently a man
of the world to offer them a smiling;
O
countenance. He fell into animated con
versation conversation, at least, that was
animated on her side with Mrs. West-
gate, while his companion made himself
agreeable to the young lady. Mrs. West-
gate began confessing and protesting, de
claring and expounding.
" I must say London is a great deal
brighter and prettier just now than when
I was here last in the month of Novem
ber. There is evidently a great deal going
on, and you seem to have a good many
flowers. I have no doubt it is very
charming for all you people, and that you
amuse yourselves immensely. It is very
good of you to let Bessie and me come
and sit and look at you. I suppose you
think I am satirical, but I must confess
that that s the feeling I have in London."
115
" I am afraid I don t quite understand
to what feeling you allude," said Percy
Beaumont.
" The feeling that it s all very well for
you English people. Everything is beau
tifully arranged for you."
"It seems to me it is very well for
some Americans, sometimes," rejoined
Beaumont.
" For some of them, yes if they like
to be patronized. But I must say I don t
like to be patronized. I may be very
eccentric and undisciplined and outra
geous, but I confess I never was fond of
patronage. I like to associate with peo
ple on the same terms as I do in my own
country ; that s a peculiar taste that I have.
But here people seem to expect something
else Heaven knows what ! lam afraid
you will think I am very ungrateful, for
I certainly have received a great deal of
attention. The last time I was here, a
lady sent me a message that I was at
liberty to come and see her."
"Dear me! I hope you didn t go," ob
served Percy Beaumont.
" You are deliciously naive, I must say
that for you !" Mrs. Westgate exclaimed.
" It must be a great advantage to you
116
here in London. I suppose if I myself
had a little more naivete, I should enjoy it
more. I should be content to sit on a chair
in the park, and see the people pass, and be
told that this is the Duchess of Suffolk, and
that is the Lord Chamberlain, and that I
must be thankful for the privilege of be
holding them. I dare say it is very wicked
and critical of me to ask for anything else.
But I was always critical, and I freely
confess to the sin of being fastidious. I
am told there is some remarkably supe
rior second-rate society provided here for
strangers. Merci ! I don t want any su
perior second-rate society. I want the
society that I have been accustomed to."
" I hope you don t call Lambeth and
me second-rate," Beaumont interposed.
" Oh, I am accustomed to you," said
Mrs. "YVestgate. " Do you know that you
English sometimes make the most won
derful speeches? The first time I came
to London I went out to dine as I told
you, I have received a great deal of at
tention. After dinner, in the drawing-
room I had some conversation with an
old lady ; I assure you I had. I forget
what we talked about, but she presently
said, in allusion to something we were
117
discussing, Oh, you know, the aristoc
racy do so-and-so ; but in one s own class
of life it is very different. In one s own
class of life ! What is a poor unprotected
American woman to do in a country
where she is liable to have that sort of
thing said to her?"
" You seem to get hold of some very
queer old ladies; I compliment you on
your acquaintance !" Percy Beaumont ex
claimed. " If you are trying to bring
me to admit that London is an odious
place, you ll not succeed. I m extremely
fond of it, and I think it the jolliest
place in the world."
"Pour vous autres. I never said the
**- ^--
contrary," Mrs. Westgate retorted. I
make use of this expression, because both
interlocutors had begun to raise their
voices. Percy Beaumont naturally did
not like to hear his country abused, and
Mrs. Westgate, no less naturally, did not
like a stubborn debater.
" Hallo !" said Lord Lambeth ; " what
are they up to now ?" And he came
away from the window, where he had
been standing with Bessie Alden.
" I quite agree with a very clever
countrywoman of mine," Mrs. Westgate
continued, with charming ardor, though
with imperfect relevancy. She smiled at
the two gentlemen for a moment with
terrible brightness, as if to toss at their
feet upon their native heath the gaunt
let of defiance. " For me there are only
two social positions worth speaking of
that of an American lady, and that of the
Emperor of Russia."
" And what do you do with the Ameri
can gentlemen ?" asked Lord Lambeth.
" She leaves them in America !" said
Percy Beaumont.
On the departure of their visitors,
Bessie Alden told her sister that Lord
Lambeth would come the next day, to go
119
with them to the Tower, and that he had
kindly offered to bring his "trap," and
drive them thither.
Mrs. Westgate listened in silence to
this communication, and for some time
afterwards she said nothing. But at last :
" If you had not requested me the oth
er day not to mention it," she began,
"there is something I should venture
to ask you." Bessie frowned a little;
her dark blue eyes were more dark than
blue. But her sister went on. " As it
is, I will take the risk. You are not in
love with Lord Lambeth: I believe it,
perfectly. Very good. But is there, by
chance, any danger of your becoming so ?
It s a very simple question; don t take
offence. I have a particular reason," said
Mrs. Westgate, " for wanting to know."
Bessie Alden for some moments said
nothing ; she only looked displeased.
" No ; there is no danger," she answered
at last, curtly
" Then I should like to frighten them,"
declared Mrs. Westgate, clasping her
jewelled hands.
" To frighten whom ?"
" All these people ; Lord Lambeth s
family and friends."
120
"How should you frighten them?"
asked the young girl.
"It wouldn t be I it would be you.
It would frighten them to think that you
should absorb his lordship s young affec
tions."
Bessie Alden, with her clear eyes still
overshadowed by her dark brows, con
tinued to interrogate. " Why should that
frighten them ?"
Mrs. Westgate poised her answer with
a smile before delivering it. " Because
they think you are not good enough.
You are a charming girl, beautiful and
amiable, intelligent and clever, and as
Men-elevee as it is possible to be ; but
you are not a fit match for Lord Lam
beth."
Bessie Alden was decidedly disgusted.
"Where do you get such extraordinary
ideas ?" she asked. " You have said some
such strange tilings lately. My dear
Kitty, where do you collect them ?"
Kitty was evidently enamoured of her
idea. " Yes, it would put them on pins
and needles, and it wouldn t hurt you.
Mr. Beaumont is already most uneasy; I
could soon see that."
The young girl meditated a mo
