he called,
and presently some chairs were made clear.

"And what must I confess?" asked Hector, when they were seated. "That I
am frantically in love with you, and your coldness is driving me wild?"

"Certainly not!" said the widow, while she rose again and began to
arrange some giant roses in a wonderful basket which looked as if it had
just arrived--her shrewd eye had seen the card, "From Captain
Fitzgerald, with his best bonjour." "Certainly not! We are going to talk
truth, or, to punish you, I shall not ask you to meet her again, and I
shall warn her father of your strictly dishonorable intentions."

"You would not be so cruel!"

"Yes I would. And it is what I ought to do, anyway. She is as innocent
as a woolly lamb, and unsophisticated and guileless, and will probably
be falling in love with you. You take the wind out of the sails of that
husband of hers, you see!"

"Do I?" said Hector, with overdone incredulity.

She looked at him. His long, lithe limbs stretched out, every line
indicative of breeding and strength. She noted the shape of his head,
the perfect grooming, his lazy, insolent grace, his whimsical smile.
Englishmen of this class were certainly the most provokingly beautiful
creatures in the world.

"It is because they have done nothing but order men, kill beasts, and
subjugate women for generations," she said to herself. "Lazy, naughty
darlings! If they came to our country and worked their brains a little,
they would soon lose that look. But it would be a pity," she
added--"yes, a pity."

"What are you thinking of?" asked Lord Bracondale, while she gazed at
him.

"I was thinking you are a beautiful, useless creature. Just like all
your nation. You think the world is made for you; in any case, all the
women and animals to kill are."

"What an abominable libel! But I am fond of both things--women and
animals to kill."

"And you class them equally--or perhaps the animals are ahead."

"Indeed not always," said Hector, reassuringly. "Some women have quite
the first place."

"You are too flattering!" retorted the widow. "Those sentiments are all
very well for your own poor-spirited, down-trodden women, but they won't
do for Americans! A man has to learn a number of lessons before he is
fitted to cope with them."

"Oh, tell me," said Hector.

"He has got to learn to wait, for one thing, to wait about for hours if
necessary, and not to lose his temper, because the woman can't make up
her mi