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A Chicago Princess

Barr Robert
A Chicago Princess

“Good gracious, Miss Stretton,” I cried, “do you take me for a conceited ass?”

The lady condescended to laugh a little, very low and very sweetly, but it was an undeniable laugh, and so I was grateful for it.

“You mistake me,” she said. “I took you for a superior person, that was all, and I think superior persons sometimes make mistakes.”

“What mistake have I fallen into, if you will be so good as to tell me?”

“Well, as a beginning, Mr. Tremorne, I think that if I was an English lady you would not venture to accost me as you have done to-night, without a proper introduction.”

“I beg your pardon. I considered myself introduced to you by Miss Hemster to-day at luncheon; and if our host had not so regarded it, I imagine he would have remedied the deficiency.”

“Mr. Hemster, with a delicacy which I regret to say seems to be unappreciated, knowing me to be a servant in his employ, did not put upon me the embarrassment of an introduction.”

“Really, Miss Stretton, I find myself compelled to talk to you rather seriously,” said I, with perhaps a regrettable trace of anger in my voice. “You show yourself to be an extremely ignorant young woman.”

Again she laughed very quietly.

“Oh!” she cried, with an exultation that had hitherto been absent from her conversation; “the veneer is coming off, and the native Englishman stands revealed in the moonlight.”

“You are quite right, the veneer is coming off. And now, if you have the courage of your statements, you will hear the truth about them. On the other hand, if you like to say sharp things and then run away from the consequences, there is the saloon, or there is the other side of the deck. Take your choice.”

“I shall borrow a piece of English brag and say I am no coward. Go on.”

“Very well. I came down from the bridge after a most friendly and delightful talk with the captain, having no other thought in my mind than to make myself an agreeable comrade to you when I saw you on deck.”

“That was a very disingenuous beginning for a truthful lecture, Mr. Tremorne. When you saw me, you thought it was Miss Hemster, and you found out too late that it was I; so you approached me with the most polite and artful covering of your disappointment.”

We were walking up and down the deck again, and took one or two turns before I spoke once more.

“Yes, Miss Stretton, you are demoniacally right. I shall amend the beginning of my lecture, then, by alluding to an incident which I did not expect to touch upon. At luncheon Miss Hemster received my greeting with what seemed to me unnecessary insolence. We are to be housed together for some time aboard this yacht; therefore I came down to greet her as if the incident to which I have alluded had not taken place.”

“How very good of you!” said Miss Stretton sarcastically.

“Madam, I quite agree with you. Now we will turn to some of your own remarks, if you don’t mind. In the first place, you said I would not address an English lady to whom I had not been properly introduced. In that statement you were entirely wrong. Five years ago, on an Atlantic liner, I, without having been introduced, asked the Countess of Bayswater to walk the deck with me, and she graciously consented. Some time after that, the deck steward being absent, her Grace the Duchess of Pentonville, without a formal introduction to me, asked me to tuck her up in her steamer chair; then she requested me to sit down beside her, which I did, and we entered into the beginning of a very pleasant acquaintance which lasted during the voyage.”

“Dear me!” said Miss Stretton, evidently unimpressed, “how fond you are of citing members of the nobility!”

“Many of them are, or have been, friends of my own; so why should I not cite them? However, my object was entirely different. If I had said that Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith were the people in question, you might very well have doubted that they were ladies, and so my illustration would have fallen to the ground. You said English ladies, and I have given you the names of two who are undoubtedly ladies, and undoubtedly English, for neither of them is an American who has married a member of our nobility.”

If ever fire flashed from a woman’s eyes, it was upon this occasion. Miss Stretton’s face seemed transformed with anger.

“Sir!” she flashed, “that last remark was an insult to my countrywomen, and was intended as such. I bid you good-night, and I ask you never to speak to me again.”

“Exactly as I thought,” said I; “the moment shells begin to fly, you beat a retreat.”

Miss Stretton had taken five indignant steps toward the companion-way when my words brought her to a standstill. After a momentary pause she turned around with a proud motion of her figure which elicited my utmost admiration, walked back to my side, and said very quietly:

“Pardon me; pray proceed.”

“I shall not proceed, but shall take the liberty of pausing for a moment to show you the futility of jumping to a conclusion. Now, try to comprehend. You said, English ladies. My illustration would have been useless if the Countess and the Duchess had been Americans. Do you comprehend that, or are you too angry?”

I waited for a reply but none came.

“Let me tell you further,” I went on, “that I know several American women who possess titles; and if any man in my presence dared to hint that one or other of them was not a lady I should knock him down if I could, and if no one but men were about. So you see I was throwing no disparagement on your countrywomen, but was merely clenching my argument on the lines you yourself had laid down.”

“I see; I apologize. Pray go on with the lecture.”

“Thank you for the permission, and on your part please forgive any unnecessary vehemence which I have imported into what should be a calm philosophical pronouncement. When you accuse an Englishman of violating some rule of etiquette, he is prone to resent such an imputation, partly because he has an uneasy feeling that it may be true. He himself admits that nearly every other nation excels his in the arts of politeness. It is really not at all to his discredit that he fondly hopes he has qualities of heart and innate courtesy which perhaps may partly make up for his deficiency in outward suavity of manner. Now, madam, etiquette is elastic. It is not an exact science, like mathematics. The rules pertaining to decimal fractions are the same the world over, but the etiquette of the Court differs from the etiquette of the drawing-room, and dry-land etiquette differs from the etiquette on board ship.”

“I don’t see why it should,” interrupted Miss Stretton.

“Then, madam, it shall be my privilege to explain. Imagine us cast on a desert shore. If, for instance, our captain were less worthy than he is, and ran us on the rocks of Quelpaerd Island, which is some distance ahead of us, you would find that all etiquette would disappear.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we should each have to turn around and mutually help the others. Whether I had been introduced to you or not, I should certainly endeavour to provide you with food and shelter; whereas if I contracted one of the island’s justly celebrated fevers, your good heart would prompt you to do what you could for my restoration. Now a ship is but a stepping-stone between the mainland of civilization and the desert island of barbarism. This fact, unconsciously or consciously, seems to be recognized, and so the rules of etiquette on board ship relax, and I maintain, with the brutal insistance of my race, that I have not infringed upon them.”

“I think that is a very capital and convincing illustration, Mr. Tremorne,” confessed the lady generously.

Now, look you, how vain a creature is man. That remark sent a glow of satisfaction through my being such as I had not experienced since a speech of my youth was applauded by my fellow-students at the Union in Oxford. Nevertheless, I proceeded stubbornly with my lecture, which I had not yet finished.

“Now, madam, I am going to give you the opportunity to charge me with inconsistency. I strenuously object to the application of the term ‘servant’ as applied to yourself or to me. I am not a servant.”

“But, Mr. Tremorne, you admitted it a while ago, and furthermore said that your distinguished cousin would also have confessed as much if in your place.”

“I know I said so; but that was before the veneer fell away.”

“Then what becomes of the candour of which you boasted? Has it gone with the veneer?”

“They are keeping each other company on the ocean some miles behind us. I have thrown them overboard.”

Miss Stretton laughed with rather more of heartiness than she had yet exhibited.

“Well, I declare,” she cried; “this is a transformation scene, all in the moonlight!”

“No, I am not Mr. Hemster’s servant. Mr. Hemster desires to use my knowledge of the Eastern languages and my experience in Oriental diplomacy. For this he has engaged to pay, but I am no more his servant than Sir Edward Clark is a menial to the client who pays him for the knowledge he possesses; and, if you will permit me the English brag, which you utilized a little while since, I say I am a gentleman and therefore the equal of Mr. Silas K. Hemster, or any one else.”

“You mean superior, and not equal.”

“Madam, with all due respect, I mean nothing of the sort.”

“Nevertheless, that is what is in your mind and in your manner. By the way, is your lecture completed?”

“Yes, entirely so. It is your innings now. You have the floor, or the deck rather.”

“Then I should like to say that Silas K. Hemster, as you call him, is one of the truest gentlemen that ever lived.”

“Isn’t that his name?”

“You were perfectly accurate in naming him, but you were certainly supercilious in the tone in which you named him.”

 

“Oh, I say!”

“No, you don’t; it is my say, if you please.”

“Certainly, certainly; but at first you try to make me out a conceited ass, and now you endeavour to show that I am an irredeemable cad. I have the utmost respect for Mr. Hemster.”

“Have you? Well, I am very glad to hear it, and I wish to give you a firmer basis for that opinion than you have been able to form from your own observation. Mr. Hemster may not be learned in books, but he is learned in human nature. He is the best of men, kind, considerate, and always just. He was a lifelong friend of my father, now, alas, no more in life. They were schoolboys together. It was inevitable that Mr. Hemster should become very wealthy, and equally inevitable that my father should remain poor. My father was a dreamy scholar, and I think you will admit that he was a gentleman, for he was a clergyman of the Episcopal Church. He was not of the money-making order of men, and, if he had been, his profession would have precluded him from becoming what Mr. Hemster is. Although Mr. Hemster grew very rich, it never in the least interfered with his friendship for my father nor with his generosity to my father’s child. If I cared to accept that generosity it would be unstinted. As it is, he pays me much more than I am worth. He is simple and honest, patient and kind. Patient and kind,” she repeated, with a little tremor of the voice that for a moment checked her utterance, – “a true gentleman, if ever there was one.”

“My dear Miss Stretton,” I said, “what you say of him is greatly to the credit of both yourself and Mr. Hemster; but it distresses me that you should intimate that I have failed to appreciate him. He has picked me up, as I might say, from the gutters of Nagasaki without even a line of recommendation or so much as a note of introduction.”

“That is what I said to you; he is a judge of men rather than of literature and the arts; and it is entirely to your credit that he has taken you without credentials. You may be sure, were it otherwise, I should not have spent so much time with you as I have done this evening. But his quick choice should have given you a better insight into his character than that which you possess?”

“There you go again, Miss Stretton. What have I said or done which leads you to suppose I do not regard Mr. Hemster with the utmost respect?”

“It is something exceedingly difficult to define. It cannot be set down as lucidly as your exposition of etiquette. It was your air, rather than your manner at luncheon time. It was a very distant and exalted air, which said as plainly as words that you sat down with a company inferior to yourself.”

I could not help laughing aloud; the explanation was absolutely absurd.

“Why, my dear Miss Stretton, if I may call you so, you never even glanced at me during luncheon time; how, then, did you get such extraordinary notions into your head?”

“One did not need to glance at you to learn what I have stated. Now, during our conversation you have been frightened – no, that is not the word – you have been surprised – into a verbal honesty that has been unusual to you. Please make the confession complete, and admit that in your own mind you have not done justice to Mr. Hemster.”

“Miss Stretton, the word you have been searching for is ‘bluff.’ I have been bluffed into confessions, before now, which in my calmer moments I regretted. You see I have been in America myself, and ‘bluff’ is an exceedingly expressive word. And, madam, permit me to say that in this instance the bluff will not work. You cannot get me to admit that either by look or tone I think anything but what is admirable of Mr. Hemster.”

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” cried the girl in mock despair. It was really wonderful how unconsciously friendly she had become after our tempestuous discussion. “Oh, dear, oh, dear! how you are fallen from the state of generous exaltation that distinguished you but a short time ago. Please search the innermost recesses of your mind, and tell me if you do not find there something remotely resembling contempt for a man who accepted you – appalling thought! – without even a note of introduction.”

“Very well, my lady, I shall make the search you recommend. Now we will walk quietly up and down the deck without a word being said by either of us, and during that time I shall explore those recesses of my mind, which no doubt you regard as veritable ‘chambers of horrors.’”

We walked together under the bridge, and then to the very stern of the ship, coming back to the bridge again. As we turned, the lady by my side broke the contract.

“Oh!” she cried with a little gasp, “there is Miss Hemster!” – and I saw the lady she mentioned emerge from the companion-way to the deck.

“Damnation!” I muttered, under my breath, forgetting for an instant in whose presence I stood, until she turned her face full upon me.

“I – I beg your pardon most sincerely,” I stammered.

“And I grant it with equal sincerity,” she whispered, with a slight laugh, which struck me as rather remarkable, for she had previously become deeply offended at sayings much milder than my surprised ejaculation.

CHAPTER VII

We were sailing due west, so that the full moon partly revealed the side face of the figure approaching us, and I venture to assert that the old moon, satellite of lovers, never shone upon anything more graceful than the vision we now beheld. Man as I was, I knew intuitively that she was dressed with a perfection far beyond my powers of description. The partly revealed face wore an expression of childlike simplicity and innocence, with all of a mature woman’s exquisite beauty. No frowns now marred that smooth brow; the daintily chiseled lips were animated by a smile of supreme loveliness.

“What a perfectly enchanting night!” she cried, as she came to a standstill before us. “But don’t you think it is a trifle chilly?” – and a slight shiver vibrated her frame. “But I suppose you have been energetically walking, and therefore have not noticed the change of temperature. Oh, Hilda, darling, would you mind running down to my room and bringing up that light fleecy wrap, which I can thrown over my shoulders?”

“I will bring it at once,” replied Miss Stretton, hastening toward the companion-way. Just as she reached the head of the stair a ripple of tinkling laughter added music to the night.

“Dear me, how stupid I am!” cried Miss Hemster, “Why, Hilda, I have it here on my arm all the time! Don’t bother, darling!”

Miss Stretton paused for a moment, then said, “Good-night!” and disappeared down the stairway.

Man is a stupid animal. I did not know at the moment, nor did I learn until long after, – and even then it was a lady who told me, – that this was a sweet dismissal, as effective as it was unperceived by myself.

Miss Hemster busied herself with the fleecy wrap, whose folds proved so unmanageable that I ventured to offer my aid and finally adjusted the fabric upon her shapely shoulders. We began walking up and down the deck, she regulating her step to mine, and, in the friendly manner of yesterday afternoon, placing her hand within my arm.

However, she did not hop and skip along the deck as she had done on the streets of Nagasaki, although I should have thought the smooth white boards offered an almost irresistible temptation to one who had shown herself to be bubbling over with the joy of youth and life. Notwithstanding the taking of my arm, she held herself with great dignity, her head erect and almost thrown back, so I expected to be treated to a new phase of her most interesting character. I was finding it somewhat bewildering, and hardly knew how to begin the conversation; but whether it was the springing step, or the smoothness of the deck, or both combined, it struck me all at once that she must be a superb dancer, and I was about to make inquiry as to this when she withdrew her hand rather quickly after we had taken two or three turns up and down the deck in silence, and said:

“You are not taking advantage of the opportunity I have been kind enough to present to you.”

“What opportunity?” I asked in amazement.

“The opportunity to apologize to me.”

“To apologize?” cried I, still more at a loss to understand her meaning. “Pray, for what should I apologize?”

She said with great decision and some impatience:

“How terribly dense you Englishmen are!”

“Yes, I admit it. We are celebrated as a nation for obtuseness. But won’t you take pity on this particular Englishman, and enlighten him regarding his offence. What should I apologize for?”

“Why, you told my father you were not a friend of the Mikado!”

“Certainly I told him so. I am not a friend of the Mikado; therefore why should I claim to be?”

“Oh!” she cried, with a fine gesture of disdain, “you are trying to do the George Washington act!”

“The George Washington act!” I repeated.

“Certainly. Of course you don’t see that. He could not tell a lie, you know.”

“Ah, I understand you. No, I am doing the Mark Twain act. I can tell a lie, but I won’t.”

“Not even for me?” she asked, looking up at me with that winning smile of hers.

“Ah, when you put it that way I fear I shall be unable to emulate the truthfulness of either George or Mark.”

“Now that isn’t so bad,” she said, taking my arm again, which gave me the hope that I had been at least partially restored to favour.

“You certainly intimated to me yesterday that you were a friend of the Mikado.”

“Then I am to blame; for with equal certainty I had no right to do so.”

“You said you had seen him several times and had spoken with him.”

“Yes, but that does not constitute a claim upon His Majesty’s consideration.”

“Why, you have only seen me two or three times, and I am sure you know I’m a friend of yours.”

“Madam, I am delighted to hear you say so. If the Mikado had made a similar statement, I should claim him as a friend before all the world.”

“Then there was another thing you said, and I suppose you’ll go back on that, too. You said you were a partisan of mine, or, since you are such a stickler for accuracy, an adherent – I think that was the word – yes, you were my adherent, or retainer, or something of the sort, such as we read of in old-fashioned novels, and when you said so, poor little trustful girl that I am, I believed you.”

“Indeed, Miss Hemster, you had every right to do so. Should occasion arise, you will find me your staunch defender.”

“Oh, that’s all very pretty; but when it comes to the test, then you fail. You heard what my father said. You must have known I meant you to claim friendship with the Mikado. Poor father’s as transparent as glass, and he surely made it as plain as this funnel that I wished you to claim friendship with the head of the Japanese nation. So, after all your beautiful promises, the moment you get a chance to back me up, you do so by going back on me.”

“My dear Miss Hemster, why did you not give me a hint of your wishes? If, when we were in Nagasaki, you had but said that you wished me to proclaim myself the Emperor’s brother, I should have perjured myself on your behalf like a gentleman.”

“It happened that I was not on deck when you came aboard, and so did not see you. But I do think, if you hadn’t forgotten me entirely, you would have learned at once from my father’s talk what I wished you to say.”

“Yes, I see it all now, when it is too late; but as you have remarked, and as I have admitted, I am extremely dense, and unless a thing is as plain as the funnel – to use your own simile – I am very apt to overlook it. Sometimes I don’t see it even then. For instance, when you are walking by my side, I am just as likely to run into the funnel as to walk past it.”

She laughed most good naturedly at this observation, and replied:

“Oh, you do say things very charmingly, and I will forgive you, even if you refuse to apologize.”

“But I don’t refuse to apologize. I do apologize – most abjectly – for my stupidity.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right. Perhaps, when everything’s said and done, it was my own fault in not giving you warning. Next time I want you to stand by me, I’ll have it all typewritten nice and plain, and will hand the paper to you twenty-four hours ahead.”

“That would be very kind of you, Miss Hemster; and, besides, you would then possess documentary evidence of the stupidity of an Englishman.”

“Oh, we don’t need to have documentary evidence for that,” she replied brightly; “but I tell you I was mad clear through when I knew what you had said to my father. I raised storm enough to sink the yacht.”

 

“Did you?”

“Didn’t I? Why, you knew I did.”

“I hadn’t the slightest suspicion of it.”

“Oh, well, you are denser than I thought. And I have been worrying myself all the afternoon for fear you were offended by the way I told you to take your seat at the table.”

“Offended? I shouldn’t have had the presumption to think of such a thing. Indeed, it was very kind of you to indicate my place. Such instructions are usually given by the steward.”

She bestowed a sly, sidelong glance upon me, and there was a somewhat uncertain smile at the corners of her pretty lips.

“Is that a little dig at me?” she asked.

“Nothing of the sort. It was a mere statement of fact.”

“Sometimes I think,” she said meditatively, more to herself than to me, “that you are not such a fool as you look.”

I was compelled to laugh at this, and replied with as much urbanity as I could call to my command:

“I am overjoyed to hear that statement. It seems to prove that I am making progress. Such evidence always encourages a man.”

“Oh, well,” she said, with a shrug of impatience, “don’t let’s talk any more about it. I didn’t want to go to Corea, and I did want to return to Yokohama; so here we are going to Corea. Don’t you think I am a very good-natured girl to let bygones be bygones so easily?”

“You certainly are.”

“Then that’s settled. Tell me what Miss Stretton was talking to you about.”

I was somewhat taken aback by this extraordinary request, but replied easily:

“Oh, we had not been walking the deck very long, and we discussed nothing of extreme importance so far as I can remember.”

“What did she say about me?”

“I assure you, Miss Hemster, your name was not mentioned between us.”

“Really? Then what on earth did you talk about?”

“When I have the good fortune to be in your presence, Miss Hemster, I confess it seems impossible that I should talk about anyone else than yourself, nevertheless I should not presume to discuss one lady with another.”

The girl jerked away her arm again, and turned to me with a flash in her eyes that was somewhat disconcerting.

“Look here, Mr. Tremorne,” she cried, “if you’ve got anything to say against me, I want you to say it right out like a man, and not to hint at it like a spiteful woman.”

“What have I said now?” I inquired very humbly.

“You know quite well what you have said. But if you imagine I am as stupid as you admit yourself to be, you’ll get left!”

“My dear madam,” I ventured; “one of the advantages of having a thick skin is that a person does not take offence where no offence is meant.”

“There you go again! You know very well that you were driving at me when you said that you refused to discuss one lady with another; because, if you meant anything at all, you meant that I was trying to do what you couldn’t bring yourself to do; and when you talk of ‘lady’ and ‘lady’ you are in effect putting Miss Stretton on an equality with me.”

“I should never think of doing so,” I replied, with a bow to the angry person beside me.

“Is that another?” she demanded. “Oh, you know very well what I mean. Do you consider Miss Stretton a lady?”

“My acquaintance with her is of the shortest, yet I should certainly call her a lady.”

“Then what do you call me?”

“A lady also.”

“Well, if that isn’t putting us on an equality, what is?”

“I said, madam, that I did not put you on an equality. That was done by a celebrated document which you often fling in our faces. I refer to the Declaration of Independence, which, if I remember rightly, begins – ‘All men are created equal,’ and I suppose, as the humourist puts it, that the men embrace the women.”

“Miss Stretton is my paid servant,” insisted Miss Hemster, evading the point; “and, as was said in the opera of ‘Pinafore,’ when one person has to obey the orders of another, equality is out of the question.”

“I didn’t think that made any difference in the United States.”

“But this isn’t the United States.”

“I beg your pardon, but this is the United States. We are on the high seas, aboard a steamer that is registered in New York, and so this deck is just as much a part of your country as is New York itself, and the laws of the United States would justify the captain in putting me in irons if he thought my conduct deserved such treatment.”

“Then you refuse to tell me what you and Miss Stretton were discussing!”

“My dear madam, if Miss Stretton asked me what you and I were discussing, I should certainly refuse to inform her. Should I not be justified in doing so? I leave it to yourself. Would you be pleased if I repeated our conversation to Miss Stretton?”

“Oh, I don’t know that I should mind,” replied Miss Hemster mildly, the storm subsiding as quickly as it had risen; “I have no doubt she told you that her father was a clergyman, and that my father had borrowed five hundred dollars from her father to get his start in life. And she doubtless hinted that her father was the founder of our fortune.”

“I assure you, Miss Hemster, that she said nothing at all about five hundred dollars or any other sum. She spoke mostly of your father, and she spoke very highly of him.”

“She certainly had every right to do so. My father gave her what education she has and supported her ever since.”

I made no comment upon this statement, and my companion veered round a bit and said brightly:

“Oh, I see you don’t like me to talk like that, and perhaps I shouldn’t, but Hilda Stretton is as sly as they make them, and I’ve no doubt she came on deck just to size you up, while you would never suspect it.”

“I venture to think you do the young lady an injustice, Miss Hemster. I am sure she would have preferred to walk the deck alone, although she was too polite to say so. I rather fear I forced my company upon her.”

“Oh, yes, oh, yes; I understand all about that. Such is just the impression Hilda Stretton would like to make upon a man. Now I am honest. I came on deck purposely to have a talk with you.”

“Then I am very much flattered.”

“Well, you ought to be, and I may say this for you, that you don’t talk to me in the least as other men do. Nobody has ever dared to contradict me.”

“Have I done so? You shock me, for I certainly did not intend to contradict you.”

“Why, you have done nothing else, and I don’t think it’s gentlemanly at all. But we’ll let that go. Now I wish to talk about yourself.”

“Well, I think we might choose a more entertaining topic.”

“We’ll talk about Lord Tremorne then.”

“Hang Lord Tremorne!”

“Ah, Miss Stretton and you were discussing him then?”

“Indeed we were not, but I am rather tired of the gentleman. Yet he is a very good fellow, and I ought not to say ‘Hang him!’ even if I am on the high seas. I am sure I wish him nothing but good.”

“If he were to die, would you become Lord Tremorne?”

“Bless me, no!”

“Who stands between you?”

“His three sons, who are very healthy specimens of humanity, I am glad to say.”

“Isn’t there ever any possibility of your becoming Lord Tremorne, then?”

“Oh, there’s a possibility of anything, but no probability. I may say quite truthfully that no one would be so sorry as I if the probability occurred.”

“Don’t you want to have a title?”

“I wouldn’t give twopence for it.”

“Really? I thought every one in England wanted a title?”

“Dear me, no! There are men in England, plain Mr. This or That, who wouldn’t change their appellation for the highest title that could be offered them.”

“Why?”

“Oh, they belong to fine old families and look upon the newer aristocracy as upstarts.”

“It seems funny to talk of old families, for all families are the same age. We all spring from Adam, I suppose.”

“Doubtless, but I believe the College of Arms does not admit such a contention.”

“Don’t you think family pride a very idiotic thing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought very much about it, though I don’t see why we should parade the pedigree of a horse and be ashamed of the pedigree of a man.”

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