“Please forgive me, dear Lady Helen, if I am thoroughly unamiable for a few moments,” she pouted. “But I have been _so_ annoyed.” She swept her hand dramatically in the direction of a newspaper which evidently had been flung into the bushes. I recognised the New York ----.[A] “_That_ has a picture of me, a large libellous photograph, procured, heaven knows how, certainly not from a friend! _Why_ should they use my picture? _Why_ should they mention my name? What possible interest can their readers--their million vulgar sensational readers--take in _me_? I don’t suppose they ever heard my name before. It _is_ hard when you have striven to belong to the aristocracy of letters to be flung into a cowshed.” I could not resist the temptation, although I trembled at my temerity: “I read the ----[A] every morning,” I said. “Now, had I not met you, I should have been quite keen on seeing your picture.” “How sweet of you--but--Lady Helen--you don’t read the ----.[A] You surely don’t take it?” I nodded, perfectly delighted at the twelve expressions of shocked amazement. “How is a stranger to master all your subtle distinctions at once? It seems to me very jolly and interesting. My brother is quite devoted to it.” “Well, I don’t suppose it will do you any actual harm,” said Mrs. Hammond, with an anxious expression, “but I assure you that if you were an American you never would admit that you read it--would not, indeed, have the least desire to read it--and I should really rejoice if you would reprove them by writing and withdrawing your subscription.” “Oh, I couldn’t think of doing that,” I said lightly. “My brother and I are studying your country, and you have nothing more representative.” “Representative?” Those carefully modulated voices were quite shrill. I was in misery and my knees were shaking, but I determined to stand my ground. “Do not you call a newspaper that a million people read every day, representative?” I answered. “What is it if not representative?” “Of a certain class--yes,” said Mrs. Chenoweth disgustedly. “But what a class!” “A million people are not to be despised anywhere.” I longed to ask Mrs. Laurence if she would prohibit--if she could--the ----’s[A] million readers from buying her books, but I didn’t dare. I changed the subject instead by asking for a cup of tea. But that conversation was nothing to one I took part in later.