purposes, and Peter Corke’s suggestion, that I should cast myself overboard in mid-ocean at the mere idea of living anywhere out of England for the future, was autobiographically impossible even if I had felt so inclined.  So I committed the indiscretion.  In order that the world might be assured that my heroine married and lived happily ever afterwards, I took it prematurely into my confidence regarding my intention.  The thing that occurred, as naturally and inevitably as the rain if you leave your umbrella at home, was that within a fortnight after my return to Chicago my engagement to Mr. Page terminated; and the even more painful consequence is that I feel obliged on that account to refer to it again.

Even an American man has his lapses into unreasonableness.  Arthur especially encouraged the idea of my going to England on the ground that it would be so formative.  He said that to gaze upon the headsman’s block in the Tower was in itself a liberal education.  As we sat together in the drawing-room—­momma and poppa always preferred the sitting-room when Arthur was there—­he used to gild all our future with the culture which I should acquire by actual contact with the hoary traditions of Great Britain.  He advised me earnestly to disembark at Liverpool in a receptive and appreciative, rather than a critical and antagonistic, state of mind, to endeavour to assimilate all that was worth assimilating over there, remembering that this might give me as much as I wanted to do in the time.  I remember he expressed himself rather finely about the only proper attitude for Americans visiting England being that of magnanimity, and about the claims of kinship, only once removed, to our forbearance and affection.  He put me on my guard, so to speak, about only one thing, and that was spelling.  American spelling, he said, had become national, and attachment to it ranked next to patriotism.  Such words as “color,” “program,” “center,” had obsolete English forms which I could only acquire at the sacrifice of my independence, and the surrender of my birthright to make such improvements upon the common language as I thought desirable.  And I know that I was at some inconvenience to mention “color,” “program,” and “center,” in several of my letters just to assure Mr. Page that my orthography was not in the least likely to be undermined.

Indeed, I took his advice at every point.  I hope I do not presume in asking you to remember that I did.  I know I was receptive, even to penny buns, and sometimes simply wild with appreciation.  I found it as easy as possible to subdue the critical spirit, even in connection with things which I should never care to approve of.  I shook hands with Lord Mafferton without the slightest personal indignation with him for being a peer, and remember thinking that if he had been a duke I should have had just the same charity for him.  Indeed, I was sorry, and am still sorry, that during the four months I spent in England