Then the party, in couples, sauntered through the house and inspected the grounds. Being on particularly good terms with the butler I selected him for my companion and we quietly strolled through the upper rose terrace discussing a _menu_ that might appeal to the next influx of England's dilettantes. By this time all my American friends were barred. Max considered them "extremely common" by now. The butler and I were figuring out the expenses of the previous month as the pale moon cast its rays over my book of memoranda. Inadvertently we stopped before an open window of the drawing room. As we stood there I chanced to overhear this remark: "How could you possibly have married such a vulgar little person?" Being terribly self conscious at all times I said to my butler, "Luic, I am the v. l. p. to whom that chocolate soldier is referring. Listen, and we'll have a Warrior's opinion of a Thespian!" Then ensued the following dialogue:-- SHE: Do you think him vulgar? HE: Not necessarily vulgar, but an awful accent! SHE: Well, no one ever accused him of an American accent. He was educated in Boston. Don't you think him rather amusing? HE: In what way? SHE: By way of anecdotes and funny stories? HE: Were those stories he told at dinner supposed to be funny? SHE: Of course; didn't you hear the guests laugh? HE: Yes; so did I, but simply in a spirit of compliment. Is he supposed to be a comic man in your country? SHE: Extremely so. HE: Really? SHE: And he talks remarkably well. HE: Did he talk remarkably well to-night? SHE: I thought so. HE: Well, maybe, but I was deafened by your beauty. I saw nothing but those beauteous eyes of yours, my dear Mrs. Goodwin and everything else was a blank. Really, I-- SHE: Now don't pay me silly compliments, Lord Algy; it isn't nice. HE: I beg your pardon; but please tell me how did you happen to marry that funny little man. SHE: Now don't ask impertinent questions; one has to get married and, really, when he talks he says something. HE: Does he--really? The butler and I resumed our stroll. Some time after I met this Grenadier, talked--and said something! (My editor refuses even to edit it.) Jackwood proved a lovely summer abode for me. It cost me fifty thousand dollars to get it and fifteen thousand a "year" to keep it up (we were there about ten weeks every season). It cost me twenty-five thousand dollars to lose it! During our lives at Jackwood incident followed incident, each of which convinced me the autumn leaves were falling that would soon bury me. I discovered the fair Maxine was being bored save when the house was filled with English guests. Americans bored her even more than I did! My repertoire palled and the anecdotes she screamed at when we first were wed met with but little response and that only when the dinner table was filled with English guests who found it quite as difficult to fathom my wit as Maxine.