In a sepulchral tone she answered: "_He spat!_ Then, without a word, he picked up the bag and led the way to the hotel. I handed him a shilling, and instead of touching his cap--by the way, it was not a cap at all, but a hat with a huge brim--which, if you please, he took off with a flourish and, declining the tip, remarked: 'Always a pleasure to help a lady!' I thought I should have died of shame at his insolence!" I nearly choked, but fortunately did not, for every one else was shocked. After a painful silence Lady Agatha continued: "I must say some people have a peculiar sense of humor. I told this shocking story to Charlie Beresford, and he laughed till the tears ran down his face, and asked me to let him put it into a book he is writing on America. But I would not consent. It might give offense--Americans are very sensitive--and I think it most important that nothing should be done to cause ill-feeling between the two countries, for, as Sir George was saying at dinner, one cannot tell how soon we may need one another's help." Here Gertrude, who had been walking on the terrace with the complacent secretary, came in and took me to her room to talk about the blue-eyed Guy. Now you see why I do not want John to see this letter. He thinks he has a strong sense of humor, but it is ten to one he would no more understand the dowager than she understood the gentleman in the sombrero. How I should like to meet Sir Charles Beresford and hear him on dowagers and cowboys! But, honestly, are not the English the most impossible people! I do not mean ridiculous--no one would accuse them of being that--but funny as the camel is. "There ain't no sich animal." Only there is! XXIV "BY PURENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE UNFEIGNED" Before leaving Shrewsbury I had told Ruth on which train I would leave Saltbridge, and, as I had to change trains at Manchester, she could send a wire to the station there if she had any special orders to give me. The wire was awaiting me, and from it I found that not only had Ruth gone off "on her own" to Deepford, but that she had received an invitation from the Sanfords asking us both to come to them. She said that she was proceeding to London, and that she would go to the Sanfords' by train, and hoped I would meet her there with the car. So I returned to Shrewsbury, where we had left the car, and the next day drove slowly through Stratford-on-Avon, where I had been before, and so did not stop, waiting till Ruth and I could make the pilgrimage together. I caught a glimpse of the spire of the parish church and could "visualize" the smug bust in the chancel, which an ungrateful town permits to be called Shakespeare!