“So. Well, this is our dance. After it is over, prepare for the Americanos.” Half-an-hour later Mr. Vandewaters was standing in a conspicuous corner talking to Lady Lawless. “It is, then, your first visit to England?” she asked. He had a dry, deliberate voice, unlike the smooth, conventional voices round him. “Yes, Lady Lawless,” he replied: “it’s the first time I’ve put my foot in London town, and--perhaps you won’t believe it of an American--I find it doesn’t take up a very conspicuous place.” The humour was slightly accentuated, and Lady Lawless shrank a little, as if she feared the depths of divertisement to which this speech might lead; but a quick look at the man assured her of his common-sense, and she answered: “It is of the joys of London that no one is so important but finds the space he fills a small one, which may be filled acceptably by some one else at any moment. It is easy for kings and princes even--we have secluded princes here now--to get lost and forgotten in London.” “Well, that leaves little chance for ordinary Americans, who don’t bank on titles.” She looked up, puzzled in spite of herself. But she presently said, with frankness and naivete: “What does ‘bank on titles’ mean?” He stroked his beard, smiling quaintly, and said: “I don’t know how to put the thing better-it seems to fill the bill. But, anyway, Americans are republicans; and don’t believe in titles, and--” “O, pardon me,” she interrupted: “of course, I see.” “We’ve got little ways of talking not the same as yours. You don’t seem to have the snap to conversation that we have in the States. But I’ll say here that I think you have got a better style of talking. It isn’t exhausting.” “Mr. Pride said to me a moment ago that they spoke better English in Boston than any other place in the world.” “Did he, though, Lady Lawless? That’s good. Well, I guess he was only talking through his hat.”