“I think I would prefer it.  Wouldn’t you, Mamie?”

The man brought the same thing in a smooth finish, and looked interrogatively at poppa.

“Oh, I prefer it, too,” said he, with a profound assumption of intelligent interest.  “Were you thinking of having the pants made of the same material, Augusta?”

The gentleman’s outfitter suddenly turned his back, and stood thus for an instant struggling with something like a spasm.  Knowing that if there’s one thing in the world momma hates it’s the exhibition of poppa’s sense of humour, I walked to the door.  When I came back they were measuring the Senator.

“Will you have the American shoulder, sir?  Most of our customers prefer it.”

“Well, no.  The English shoulder would be more of a novelty on me.  You see I come from the United States myself.”

“Do you indeed, sir?”

The manners of some tailors might be emulated in England.

“Tails are a little longer than they were, sir, and waistcoats cut a trifle higher.  Not more than half an inch in both cases, sir, but it does make a difference.  Now, with reference to the coat, sir; will you have it finished with braid or not?  Silk braid, of course, sir.”

“Augusta?” demanded the Senator.

“Is braid de nouveau?” asked momma.

“Not precisely, madam, but the Prince certainly has worn it this season while he didn’t last.”

“Do you refer to Wales?” asked poppa.

“Yes, sir.  He’s very generally mentioned simply as ‘The Prince.’  His Royal Highness is very conservative, so to speak, about such things, so when he takes up a style we generally count on its lasting at least through one season.  I can assure you, sir, the Prince has appeared in braid.  You needn’t be afraid to order it.”

“I think,” put in momma, “that braid would make a very neat finish, love.”

Poppa walked slowly towards the door, considering the matter.  With his hand on the knob he turned round.

“No,” he said, “I don’t think that’s reason enough for me.  We’re both men in public positions, but I’ve got nothing in common with Wales.  I’ll have a plain hem.”

CHAPTER IV.

“If there’s one thing I hate,” said Senator Wick several times in the discussion of our plans, “it’s to see a citizen of the United States going round advertising himself.  If you analyse it, it’s a mean thing to do, for it’s no more a virtue to be born American than a fault to be born anything else.  I’m proud of my nationality and my income is a source of satisfaction to me, but I don’t intend to brandish either of them in the face of Europe.”

It was this principle that had induced poppa to buy tourist tickets second class by rail, first class by steamer, all through, like ordinary English people on eight or nine hundred a year.  Momma and I thought it rather noble of him and resolved to live up to it if possible, but when he brought forth a large packet of hotel coupons, guaranteed to produce everything, including the deepest respect of the proprietors, at ten shillings and sixpence a day apiece, we thought he was making an unnecessary sacrifice to the feelings of the non-American travelling public.