"Bravo! Pretty good for an American," shouted Mr. Pauncefote, who seemed
unable to moderate his voice. "And which do you like best, the people or
the show-places?"

"The people," said Patty, her embarrassment lost sight of in a flash of
mischief. "I like the Members of Parliament better than Parliament
House."

"Good! Good!" cried the portly M.P., striking the table with his fist
until the cups rattled; "that's true Yankee cleverness. You're a good
sort, my child. Are they all like you in America?"

"Yes, I think so," said Patty, demurely; "are they all like you in
England?"

Patty's innocent air of inquiry robbed the speech of all effect of
pertness, and the genial Mr. Pauncefote roared with delight.

"Ha, ha!" he cried; "all like me in England? No, my child, no! Heaven be
praised, there are very few after my pattern."

"That's too bad," said Patty. "I think your pattern is a good one."

"It is," said Tom Meredith. "If we had more statesmen after Mr.
Pauncefote's pattern, the House of Commons would be better off."

This speech called forth applause from the other guests, and the host
said, loudly: "Pshaw, pshaw!" but he looked greatly pleased.

When the tea was over and the party rose from the table, Mr. Pauncefote
detained Patty for a moment's chat, while the others broke up into
smaller groups or wandered away.

"I want you to meet my daughter," he was saying; "the young lady in gray
over there, talking to Sir Otho."

"Sir Otho who?" said Patty, quickly, forgetting to respond in regard to
Miss Pauncefote.

"Sir Otho Markleham; see the large gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses.
She is my youngest daughter, and I know she'd be glad to meet you."

"I'd be delighted," said Patty, but her attention centred on Sir Otho.

Could it be that was Lady Hamilton's severe father? He did not look so
obstinate as she had imagined him, but as she drew nearer, she observed
the firm set of his square jaw and reversed her opinion.

Sir Otho was very tall and big, and his smoothly brushed hair was light
brown without a trace of gray.

He wore closely-trimmed whiskers, of the style known as "mutton-chop,"
and his cold gray eyes almost glittered as he looked through his glasses.
The introduction to Miss Pauncefote implied also an introduction to Sir
Otho, and in a moment Patty found herself chatting in a group of which
Lady Kitty's father was one.

There was something about the big man that awed her, and she naturally