that she was associating with men very different from those at home where young men were supposed to be under the necessity of earning their bread.  At New York she would dance, as she had said, with bank clerks.  She was not prepared to admit that a young London lord was better than a New York bank clerk.  Judging the men on their own individual merits she might find the bank clerk to be the better of the two.  But a certain sweetness of the aroma of rank was beginning to permeate her republican senses.  The softness of life in which no occupation was compulsory had its charms for her.  Though she had complained of the insufficient intelligence of young men she was alive to the delight of having nothings said to her pleasantly.  All this had affected her so strongly that she had almost felt that a life among these English luxuries would be a pleasant life.  Like most Americans who do not as yet know the country, she had come with an inward feeling that as an American and a republican she might probably be despised.

There is not uncommonly a savageness of assertion about Americans which arises from a too great anxiety to be admitted to fellowship with Britons.  She had felt this, and conscious of reputation already made by herself in the social life of New York, she had half trusted that she would be well received in London, and had half convinced herself that she would be rejected.  She had not been rejected.  She must have become quite aware of that.  She had dropped very quickly the idea that she would be scorned.  Ignorant as she had been of English life, she perceived that she had at once become popular.  And this had been so in spite of her mother’s homeliness and her father’s awkwardness.  By herself and by her own gifts she had done it.  She had found out concerning herself that she had that which would commend her to other society than that of the Fifth Avenue.  Those lords of whom she had heard were as plenty with her as blackberries.  Young Lord Silverbridge, of whom she was told that of all the young lords of the day he stood first in rank and wealth, was peculiarly her friend.  Her brain was firmer than that of most girls, but even her brain was a little turned.  She never told herself that it would be well for her to become the wife of such a one.  In her more thoughtful moments she told herself that it would not be well.  But still the allurement was strong upon her.  Park Lane was sweeter than the Fifth Avenue.  Lord Silverbridge was nicer than the bank clerk.

But Dolly Longstaff was not.  She would certainly prefer the bank clerk to Dolly Longstaff.  And yet Dolly Longstaff was the one among her English admirers who had come forward and spoken out.  She did not desire that anyone should come forward and speak out.  But it was an annoyance to her that this special man should have done so.

The waiter at the Langham understood American ways perfectly, and when a young man called between three and four o’clock, asking for Mrs Boncassen, said that Miss Boncassen was at home.  The young man took off his hat, brushed up his hair, and followed the waiter up to the sitting-room.  The door was opened and the young man was announced.  ‘Mr Longstaff.’