Meanwhile I had endeavored to listen at the same time to the conversation between Aunt Helen and Mr. Spence. I was relieved to find that he saw fit to avoid any allusion to his theories, and pursued the highway of indifferent subjects, such as the weather, the stage, and foreign travel. Still, I could tell from Aunt Helen's superior and as it seemed to me disdainful tone that she by no means approved of my new acquaintances, though I detected her casting an occasional glance of puzzled curiosity at Mr. Barr, whose eccentricities were, I suppose, more amusing than the calm of her companion. "I don't suppose you find the differences very marked between this country and Europe, Mr. Spence?" I heard her inquire after learning that he had passed much of his life abroad. "On the contrary, very slight." "Nice people are very much the same everywhere," she observed haughtily. "To tell the truth," said Mr. Spence, "I have been rather disappointed at finding the people, as well as the manners and customs, of this country so similar to those across the water. I had been led to expect originality and independence. That was what I was taught to believe as a child. But after an absence from my country of six years I came back to find nearly the same manners and customs, and the same virtues and vices, as I left behind me in Europe." "Vices?" echoed Aunt Helen. "I should say there was much less vice in this country than in Europe." "Not if we judge by the newspapers." "Ah, but one can't believe all one reads in the newspapers," she said with an air of triumph. Mr. Spence had, unluckily for the impression he was likely to create, the courage of his convictions as I well knew, and as he began to reply I felt less secure that he would not trench upon dangerous ground. "There is a general tendency to ape foreign ideas, which is fast destroying our originality as a nation," he continued. "Foreign ideas are often the best," said my aunt. "We are beginning to talk and dress, and dine and give in marriage, just like all the rest of the world," he explained, without regarding her comment. Aunt Helen looked a little blank. Then with her most stately air she said:-- "Surely you wouldn't have marriages performed before a Justice of the Peace? It destroys all their sentiment. I know a great many persons who wouldn't consider themselves married so. As to living differently, I don't know what you mean. There are people here who advocate cremation, co-operation, and that sort of thing, but one doesn't meet them in society." "I am no judge," said Mr. Spence coolly, "for I never go into society." "Indeed!" Aunt Helen surveyed him through her eye-glass as if he were a curious animal, and her haughtiness perceptibly increased. "Are you--eh--in business in Boston?" "No, madam. I am a Bohemian," replied Mr. Spence, in whose eye I perceived a twinkle.