relieved by general laughter.

On another occasion his repudiation of this flippant spirit took a more
solemn and even more effective form. The time was a few days before the
United States had declared war. Bernstorff had been dismissed; events
were rapidly rushing toward the great climax; yet the behaviour of the
Washington Administration was still inspiring much caustic criticism.
The Pages were present at one of the few dinners which they attended in
the course of this crisis; certain smart and tactless guests did not
seem to regard their presence as a bar to many gibes against the
American policy. Page sat through it all impassive, never betraying the
slightest resentment.

Presently the ladies withdrew. Page found himself sitting next to Mr.
Harold Nicolson, an important official in the Foreign Office. It so
happened that Mr. Nicolson and Page were the only two members of the
company who were the possessors of a great secret which made ineffably
silly all the chatter that had taken place during the dinner; this was
that the United States had decided on war against Germany and would
issue the declaration in a few days.

"Well, Mr. Nicolson," said Page, "I think that you and I will drink a
glass of wine together."

The two men quietly lifted their glasses and drank the silent toast.
Neither made the slightest reference to the forthcoming event. Perhaps
the other men present were a little mystified, but in a few days they
understood what it had meant, and also learned how effectively they had
been rebuked.

"Is it any wonder," says Mr. Nicolson, telling this story, "that I think
that Mr. Page is perhaps the greatest gentleman I have ever known? He
has only one possible competitor for this distinction--and that is
Arthur Balfour."

The English newspapers took delight in printing Page's aphorisms, and
several anecdotes that came from America afforded them especial joy. One
went back to the days when the Ambassador was editor of the _Atlantic
Monthly_. A woman contributor had sent him a story; like most literary
novices she believed that editors usually rejected the manuscripts of
unknown writers without reading them. She therefore set a trap for Page
by pasting together certain sheets. The manuscript came back promptly,
and, as the prospective contributor had hoped, these sheets had not been
disturbed. These particular sections had certainly not been read. The
angry author triumphantly wrote to Page, explaining