before, did they? I don't approve of lords, as an institution. I think the world has got beyond that—far beyond."
"Oh, so do I. I don't approve of myself in the least. Sometimes it comes over me—how I should object to myself if I were not myself, don't you know? But that's rather good, by the way—not to be vainglorious."
"Why don't you give it up, then?" Miss Stackpole inquired.
"Give up—a—?" asked Lord Warburton, meeting her harsh inflection with a very mellow one.
"Give up being a lord."
"Oh, I am so little of one! One would really forget all about it, if you wretched Americans were not constantly reminding one. However, I do think of giving up—the little there is left of it—one of these days."
"I should like to see you do it," Henrietta exclaimed, rather grimly.
"I will invite you to the ceremony; we will have a supper and a dance."
"Well," said Miss Stackpole, "I like to see all sides. I don't approve of a privileged class, but I like to hear what they have got to say for themselves."
"Mighty little, as you see!"
"I should like to draw you out a little more," Henrietta continued. "But you are always looking away. You are afraid of meeting my eye. I see you want to escape me."
"No, I am only looking for those despised potatoes."
"Please explain about that young lady—your sister—then. I don't understand about her. Is she a Lady?"
"She's a capital good girl."
"I don't like the way you say that—as if you wanted to change the subject. Is her position inferior to yours?"
