It is open to us to know that at this moment the young lady by whose side he was riding put him the free question: “Who are those people you bowed to?” “Some old friends of mine—Americans,” said Jackson Lemon. “Of course they’re Americans; there’s nothing anywhere but Americans now.” “Oh yes, our turn’s coming round!” laughed the young man. “But that doesn’t say who they are,” his companion continued. “It’s so difficult to say who Americans are,” she added before he had time to answer her. “Dexter Freer and his wife—there’s nothing difficult about that. Every one knows them,” Jackson explained. “I never heard of them,” said the English girl. “Ah, that’s your fault and your misfortune. I assure you everybody knows them.” “And does everybody know the little man with the fat face to whom you kissed your hand?” “I didn’t kiss my hand, but I would if I had thought of it. He’s a great chum of mine—a fellow-student at Vienna.” “And what’s _his_ name?” “Doctor Feeder.” Jackson Lemon’s companion had a dandling pause. “Are _all_ your friends doctors?” “No—some of them are in other businesses.” “Are they all in some business?” “Most of them—save two or three like Dexter Freer.” “‘Dexter’ Freer? I thought you said Doctor Freer.” The young man gave a laugh. “You heard me wrong. You’ve got doctors on the brain, Lady Barb.” “I’m rather glad,” said Lady Barb, giving the rein to her horse, who bounded away. “Well yes, she’s very handsome, the reason,” Doctor Feeder remarked as he sat under the trees. “Is he going to marry her?” Mrs. Freer inquired. “Marry her? I hope not.” “Why do you hope not?” “Because I know nothing about her. I want to know something about the woman that man marries.” “I suppose you’d like him to marry in Cincinnati,” Mrs. Freer not unadventurously threw out. “Well, I’m not particular where it is; but I want to know her first.” Doctor Feeder was very sturdy. “We were in hopes you’d know all about it,” said his other entertainer. “No, I haven’t kept up with him there.” “We’ve heard from a dozen people that he has been always with her for the last month—and that kind of thing, in England, is supposed to mean something. Hasn’t he spoken of her when you’ve seen him?” “No, he has only talked about the new treatment of spinal meningitis. He’s very much interested in spinal meningitis.” “I wonder if he talks about it to Lady Barb,” said Mrs. Freer. “Who is she anyway?” the young man wanted to know. Well, his companions both let him. “Lady Barb Clement.” “And who’s Lady Barb Clement?” “The daughter of Lord Canterville.” “And who’s Lord Canterville?” “Dexter must tell you that,” said Mrs. Freer.