“I should think you might!” “I like her all round—with all her peculiarities.” “What do you mean by her peculiarities?” “Well, she has some peculiar ideas,” said Jackson Lemon in a tone of the sweetest reasonableness, “and she has a peculiar way of speaking.” “Ah, you can’t expect us to speak so well as you!” cried Lady Beauchemin. “I don’t see why not.” He was perfectly candid. “You do some things much better.” “We’ve our own ways at any rate, and we think them the best in the world—as they mostly are!” laughed Lady Beauchemin. “One of them’s not to let a gentleman devote himself to a girl for so long a time without some sense of responsibility. If you don’t wish to marry my sister you ought to go away.” “I ought never to have come,” said Jackson Lemon. “I can scarcely agree to that,” her ladyship good-naturedly replied, “as in that case I should have lost the pleasure of knowing you.” “It would have spared you this duty, which you dislike very much.” “Asking you about your intentions? Oh I don’t dislike it at all!” she cried. “It amuses me extremely.” “Should you like your sister to marry me?” asked Jackson with great simplicity. If he expected to take her by surprise he was disappointed: she was perfectly prepared to commit herself. “I should like it particularly. I think English and American society ought to be but one. I mean the best of each. A great whole.” “Will you allow me to ask whether Lady Marmaduke suggested that to you?” he at once inquired. “We’ve often talked of it.” “Oh yes, that’s her aim.” “Well, it’s my aim too. I think there’s a lot to be done.” “And you’d like me to do it?” “To begin it, precisely. Don’t you think we ought to see more of each other? I mean,” she took the precaution to explain, “just the best in each country.” Jackson Lemon appeared to weigh it. “I’m afraid I haven’t any general ideas. If I should marry an English girl it wouldn’t be for the good of the species.” “Well, we want to be mixed a little. That I’m sure of,” Lady Beauchemin said. “You certainly got that from Lady Marmaduke,” he commented. “It’s too tiresome, your not consenting to be serious! But my father will make you so,” she went on with her pleasant assurance. “I may as well let you know that he intends in a day or two to ask you your intentions. That’s all I wished to say to you. I think you ought to be prepared.” “I’m much obliged to you. Lord Canterville will do quite right,” the young man allowed.