travelled to Kansas City the night of the lecture and were met upon
our arrival and taken to the country house of Mrs. Edwin Shields.

After greeting her, I observed her fine tapestries, oriental china,
portraits (by Sir Joshua Reynolds), and other old masters, as well as
modern French pictures. We ate porridge, eggs and bacon and grapefruit
for breakfast, off an oak table with Irish linen napkins, and I observed
the refinement of my hostess's little face, and the pretty quality of
her voice.

I do not think the voices here are generally musical; they are nasal and
a little loud and, though Americans have a great deal of geniality and
love of fun, I am so slow at picking up the language, that I probably
miss much of the irony and _finesse_ that characterises our better kind
of humour. The Canadians, who are of British stock, have a better sense
of humour; but it is always a dangerous subject to write about, and when
I remember the stupid things that evoke the laughter of the London
public in our theatres, I feel I had better walk warily.

I am Scotch, and as a nation we have been accused of lack of humour; I
cannot be expected to agree with this, nevertheless I remember being
told in my youth of a man who had said:

"Oh! aye; Jock undoubtedly jokes, but he jokes with facility. I joke
too, but with difficulty."

The French have a far finer sense of humour than any other nation in the
world, and all they say is a constant source of delight to me.

It is pardonable not to laugh at what is amusing, but sudden guffaws at
bad jokes is the test of a true sense of humour.

After breakfasting with Mrs. Shields I asked her to show me over her
beautiful house. I was reminded of Glen by the freshness of the
chintzes, and general feeling of air and comfort which I saw wherever I
went.

We started at midday for Omaha, where we arrived in the evening. I felt
less sad at parting with my hostess as I knew I was going to spend from
7 a.m. till midnight with her on the 24th. She is coming to Europe this
summer where I shall look forward to entertaining her in London, as well
as in the country.

After leaving her, Mr. Horton told me she had said to him that till she
met me, she felt like a flower that had grown on clay soil, and that I
had helped her to break into the sunlight. I was deeply touched, and am
encouraged to hope that some day I may be worthy of so rare a
compliment.

Upon our arrival at Omaha we were met by an open