Lady Barbarina, The Siege of London, An International Episode, and Other TalesJames, Henry
General
Lady Barbarina, The Siege of London, An International Episode, and Other Tales
James, Henry
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Europe -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Well, I guess they don’t know much about England over here!” his
lordship humorously sighed. After which there was another long pause.
“He _has_ got us out of a hole,” observed the young nobleman.
Percy Beaumont genially assented. “Nobody certainly could have been more
civil.”
“Littledale said his wife was great fun,” Lord Lambeth then contributed.
“Whose wife—Littledale’s?”
“Our benefactor’s. Mrs. Westgate. What’s his name? J. L. It ‘kind of’
sounds like a number. But I guess it’s a high number,” he continued with
freshened gaiety.
The same influences appeared, however, with Mr. Beaumont to make rather
for anxiety. “What was fun to Littledale,” he said at last a little
sententiously, “may be death to us.”
“What do you mean by that?” his companion asked. “I’m as good a man as
Littledale.”
“My dear boy, I hope you won’t begin to flirt,” said the elder man.
His friend smoked acutely. “Well, I daresay I shan’t _begin_.”
“With a married woman, if she’s bent upon it, it’s all very well,” Mr.
Beaumont allowed. “But our friend mentioned a young lady—a sister, a
sister-in-law. For God’s sake keep free of her.”
“How do you mean, ‘free’?”
“Depend upon it she’ll try to land you.”
“Oh rot!” said Lord Lambeth.
“American girls are very ‘cute,’” the other urged.
“So much the better,” said the young man.
“I fancy they’re always up to some wily game,” Mr. Beaumont developed.
“They can’t be worse than they are in England,” said Lord Lambeth
judicially.
“Ah, but in England you’ve got your natural protectors. You’ve got your
mother and sisters.”
“My mother and sisters—!” the youth began with a certain energy. But he
stopped in time, puffing at his cigar.
“Your mother spoke to me about it with tears in her eyes,” said his
monitor. “She said she felt very nervous. I promised to keep you out of
mischief.”
“You had better take care of yourself!” cried Mr. Beaumont’s charge.
“Ah,” the responsible party returned, “I haven’t the expectation
of—whatever it is you expect. Not to mention other attractions.”
“Well,” said Lord Lambeth, “don’t cry out before you’re hurt!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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