“I’ll let your mother give it a name. With all respect to whom,” Percy had added, “I must decline on this occasion to do any more police duty. The Duchess must look after you herself.” “I’ll give her a chance,” the Duchess’s son had returned a trifle grimly. “I shall make her go and see them.” “She won’t do it, my boy.” “We’ll see if she doesn’t,” said Lord Lambeth. But if Mr. Beaumont took a subtle view of the arrival of the fair strangers at Jones’s Hotel he was sufficiently capable of a still deeper refinement to offer them a smiling countenance. He fell into animated conversation—conversation animated at least on _her_ side—with Mrs. Westgate, while his companion appealed more confusedly to the younger lady. Mrs. Westgate began confessing and protesting, declaring and discriminating. “I must say London’s a great deal brighter and prettier just now than it was when I was here last—in the month of November. There’s evidently a great deal going on, and you seem to have a good many flowers. I’ve no doubt it’s very charming for all you people and that you amuse yourselves immensely. It’s very good of you to let Bessie and me come and sit and look at you. I suppose you’ll think I’m very satirical, but I must confess that that’s the feeling I have in London.” “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand to what feeling you allude,” said Percy Beaumont. “The feeling that it’s all very well for you English people. Everything’s beautifully arranged for you.” “It seems to me it’s very well arranged here for some Americans sometimes,” Percy plucked up spirit to answer. “For some of them, yes—if they like to be patronised. But I must say I don’t like to be patronised. I may be very eccentric and undisciplined and unreasonable, but I confess I never was fond of patronage. I like to associate with people on the same terms as I do in my own country; that’s a peculiar taste that I have. But here people seem to expect something else—really I can’t make out quite what. I’m afraid you’ll think I’m very ungrateful, for I certainly have received in one way and another a great deal of attention. The last time I was here a lady sent me a message that I was at liberty to come and pay her my respects.” “Dear me, I hope you didn’t go,” Mr. Beaumont cried.