e others talk as though they could, and 'e only
comes to each of us once, and then 'e makes no charge."

CHAPTER XIV

Europe and the bright American Girl.

"How does she do it?"

That is what the European girl wants to know. The American girl! She
comes over here, and, as a British matron, reduced to slang by force of
indignation, once exclaimed to me: "You'd think the whole blessed show
belonged to her." The European girl is hampered by her relatives. She
has to account for her father: to explain away, if possible, her
grandfather. The American girl sweeps them aside:

"Don't you worry about them," she says to the Lord Chamberlain. "It's
awfully good of you, but don't you fuss yourself. I'm looking after my
old people. That's my department. What I want you to do is just to
listen to what I am saying and then hustle around. I can fill up your
time all right by myself."

Her father may be a soap-boiler, her grandmother may have gone out
charing.

"That's all right," she says to her Ambassador: "They're not coming. You
just take my card and tell the King that when he's got a few minutes to
spare I'll be pleased to see him."

And the extraordinary thing is that, a day or two afterwards, the
invitation arrives.

A modern writer has said that "I'm Murrican" is the _Civis Romanus sum_
of the present-day woman's world. The late King of Saxony, did, I
believe, on one occasion make a feeble protest at being asked to receive
the daughter of a retail bootmaker. The young lady, nonplussed for the
moment, telegraphed to her father in Detroit. The answer came back next
morning: "Can't call it selling--practically giving them away. See
Advertisement." The lady was presented as the daughter of an eminent
philanthropist.

It is due to her to admit that, taking her as a class, the American girl
is a distinct gain to European Society. Her influence is against
convention and in favour of simplicity. One of her greatest charms, in
the eyes of the European man, is that she listens to him. I cannot say
whether it does her any good. Maybe she does not remember it all, but
while you are talking she does give you her attention. The English woman
does not always. She greets you pleasantly enough:

"I've so often wanted to meet you," she says, "must you really go?"

It strikes you as sudden: you had no intention of going for hours. But
the hint is too plain to be ignored. You are preparing to agree