and pausing over the one among others that had
really interested me, "A GOOD NAME", was interrupted by my chairman who
exclaimed in a clear voice:

"ASQUITH!"

This met with immense success.

I ended by saying that few countries really cared for one another. It
was not rivalry or jealousy that produced this indifference, but a
certain blindness of heart. That we were part of the same family, if we
would only realise it, and had had a terrible object lesson in imagining
that any of us, however much we prepared or tried, could succeed in
crushing the other. We had seen enough hate, and enough death; and that
I passionately hoped the English-speaking nations all the world over
would try a new departure, and do what they could to promote friendship
and love.

* * * * *

The next day we sailed for England in the _Mauretania_.

If I were to finish without criticism, it might be said that these pages
should not have been called "Impressions," but "Experiences"; and
against this I have not only been warned, but adjured.

Nevertheless it is difficult, without appearing unfriendly, to write
with candour upon matters that have moved me in my American tour.

It must be said that the architecture, regulations of street-traffic,
arrangement of flower-shops, plumbing, and telephone service are
infinitely superior to our own, but these are not criticisms, they are
facts, the truth of which is not disputed.

I realise that there is not a nation in the world that extends such a
generous welcome to the many strangers that go there as the United
States. But admiration for my husband, and the publication of the first
volume of my autobiography--which aroused both favourable and
unfavourable comment--prevented me at the outset from being a complete
stranger. Indeed many of the people who attended my lectures seemed to
know all about me; and I was surprised when crowding on to the stage
they sometimes exclaimed:

"But you are so different to what we expected you would be! And you
haven't told us what you think of us."

I begged them to be frank, and tell me without fear of offence what they
had imagined I would be like; but they could only repeat:

"I don't know! But somehow we thought you would be the very opposite of
what you are."

When I tried a little clumsy chaff by saying: "I am sorry to have
disappointed you!" it was always met with a protest; and on one occasion
I heard a man say to th