I'll show you some charming scenery."

"Scenery's not my department; I always need a human interest. You know
I'm deeply human, Isabel; I always was," Miss Stackpole rejoined. "I was
going to bring in your cousin--the alienated American. There's a
great demand just now for the alienated American, and your cousin's a
beautiful specimen. I should have handled him severely."

"He would have died of it!" Isabel exclaimed. "Not of the severity, but
of the publicity."

"Well, I should have liked to kill him a little. And I should have
delighted to do your uncle, who seems to me a much nobler type--the
American faithful still. He's a grand old man; I don't see how he can
object to my paying him honour."

Isabel looked at her companion in much wonderment; it struck her as
strange that a nature in which she found so much to esteem should break
down so in spots. "My poor Henrietta," she said, "you've no sense of
privacy."

Henrietta coloured deeply, and for a moment her brilliant eyes were
suffused, while Isabel found her more than ever inconsequent. "You do me
great injustice," said Miss Stackpole with dignity. "I've never written
a word about myself!"

"I'm very sure of that; but it seems to me one should be modest for
others also!"

"Ah, that's very good!" cried Henrietta, seizing her pen again. "Just
let me make a note of it and I'll put it in somewhere." she was a
thoroughly good-natured woman, and half an hour later she was in as
cheerful a mood as should have been looked for in a newspaper-lady
in want of matter. "I've promised to do the social side," she said to
Isabel; "and how can I do it unless I get ideas? If I can't describe
this place don't you know some place I can describe?" Isabel promised
she would bethink herself, and the next day, in conversation with her
friend, she happened to mention her visit to Lord Warburton's ancient
house. "Ah, you must take me there--that's just the place for me!" Miss
Stackpole cried. "I must get a glimpse of the nobility."

"I can't take you," said Isabel; "but Lord Warburton's coming here, and
you'll have a chance to see him and observe him. Only if you intend to
repeat his conversation I shall certainly give him warning."

"Don't do that," her companion pleaded; "I want him to be natural."

"An Englishman's never so natural as when he's holding his tongue,"
Isabel declared.

It was not apparent, at the end of three days, that her cousin had,
according to her prophec