"Ha, ha, ha! Yes, Mrs. Bunker, but at present this delightful cup of tea is a great consolation." "What have you found most interesting in the States, Lord Canning?" asked Mrs. Bunker. "Well, I should say—" he hesitated, holding his cup and gazing contemplatively out at the lake. "Don’t be afraid to commit yourself," added Mrs. Bunker, quickly. "You English hate to make a positive assertion." "Quite so, Mrs. Bunker," returned Lord Canning amusedly. "We think more slowly than you do—and you have asked me a very difficult question." "I’ll answer it for you," volunteered Indiana. "Your uncle has come to America to shoot things, and you for scientific purposes—ostensibly. But you spend night after night over your brandy and soda, discussing the American woman." "Remarkable!" ejaculated Lord Stafford, adjusting his monocle and staring at Indiana. "How did you find us out, Miss Stillwater?" Lord Canning laughed heartily. Lord Stafford drew his chair closer to the tea-table. "Are you not a very remarkable woman, Mrs. Bunker, even in this country of remarkable women?" "You’ll find women like me all over the States. You see we don’t become old before our time—to make way for the girls. I had my daughter to rear, and I did it as well as I knew how. Then I superintended my granddaughter’s training. Now she’s a woman, I’m commencing all over again on my account." She laughed heartily at the serious countenance with which Lord Stafford heard her explanation. "Remarkable, Lord Stafford, or bewildering—which?" She smiled archly into his face. "Charming, this time, charming, I assure you!" "The lake looks so blue and enticing from here! Shall we drink our second cup on the balcony, Miss Stillwater?" Indiana assenting, Lord Canning brought her empty cup to Mrs. Bunker. "Make yourself comfortable in the hammock, Miss Stillwater. I will be out directly, with a fresh supply." "Don’t spill it, Lord Canning! Really your hand is very steady—a good sign! Another—with me, Lord Stafford?" "I will take another with you, Mrs. Bunker." He returned the cup and leaned comfortably back in his chair, enjoying the cosiness of his surroundings—the proximity of the fire, the blue lake shining in the distance, and the domestic picture afforded by Mrs. Bunker at the tea-table. "How is it that a good catch like you has escaped the matrimonial anglers so long?" she asked confidentially, as she sipped her tea. Lord Stafford stirred his cup in amused embarrassment, quite at a loss for an answer. "Now, why don’t you marry?" continued Mrs. Bunker. "Er—er—I’m rather sensitive about being asked such personal questions," gasped Lord Stafford. "My own sister never asked me that!" He resumed a reminiscent expression. "She asked me if I should marry, but never why—never why!" "You’ll tell me, won’t you?" urged Mrs. Bunker, sweetly. "Oh, by George, I declare I’ve never even asked myself that question!"