They are like the countryman who confessed afterwards that he could
hardly keep from laughing at one of Yankee Hill's entertainments.

THE YOUNG LADY. Do you remember those English people at our house in
Flushing last summer, who pleased us all so much with their apparent
delight in everything that was artistic or tasteful, who explored the
rooms and looked at everything, and were so interested? I suppose that
Herbert's country relations, many of whom live in the city, would have
thought it very ill-bred.

MANDEVILLE. It's just as I said. The English, the best of them, have
become so civilized that they express themselves, in speech and action,
naturally, and are not afraid of their emotions.

THE PARSON. I wish Mandeville would travel more, or that he had stayed
at home. It's wonderful what a fit of Atlantic sea-sickness will do for
a man's judgment and cultivation. He is prepared to pronounce on art,
manners, all kinds of culture. There is more nonsense talked about
culture than about anything else.

HERBERT. The Parson reminds me of an American country minister I once
met walking through the Vatican. You could n't impose upon him with any
rubbish; he tested everything by the standards of his native place, and
there was little that could bear the test. He had the sly air of a man
who could not be deceived, and he went about with his mouth in a pucker
of incredulity. There is nothing so placid as rustic conceit. There was
something very enjoyable about his calm superiority to all the treasures
of art.

MANDEVILLE. And the Parson reminds me of another American minister, a
consul in an Italian city, who said he was going up to Rome to have a
thorough talk with the Pope, and give him a piece of his mind. Ministers
seem to think that is their business. They serve it in such small pieces
in order to make it go round.

THE PARSON. Mandeville is an infidel. Come, let's have some music;
nothing else will keep him in good humor till lunch-time.

THE MISTRESS. What shall it be?

THE PARSON. Give us the larghetto from Beethoven's second symphony.

The Young Lady puts aside her portfolio. Herbert looks at the young
lady. The Parson composes himself for critical purposes. Mandeville
settles himself in a chair and stretches his long legs nearly into the
fire, remarking that music takes the tangles out of him.

After the piece is finished, lunch is announced. It is still snowing.

FOURTH STUDY

It is difficult t