have subjected England to a microscopic examination for a sufficient
length of time, you will discover that we are a nation of parasites.'

'I would rather you said that than I, Mrs. Jennings.'

'Parasites,' reiterated the speaker, fixing an eye on some point on the
wall directly between Selwyn and the hostess. 'We sprawl over the
world--why? To develop resources? No! It is to reap the natural
growth of others' endeavours? Yes! The Englishman never creates. He
is the world's greatest brigand'----

'Too thoroughly masculine to be really cruel,' chimed in the
irrepressible Smyth.

'Brigand,' repeated Mrs. Jennings, not deigning the artist so much as a
glance, 'skimming the earth of its surface riches, and rendering every
place the poorer for his being there.'

There was an awesome silence, which no one seemed courageous enough to
break.

'Yes,' said H. Stackton Dunckley finally, 'and in addition England is
decadent.'

'But, Mr. Selwyn'--again the American heard the voice of Elise Durwent,
that quick intensity of speech that always left a moment of startled
silence in its wake--'you have discovered something admirable about
England. Won't you tell us what it is?'

'Well,' he said, smiling, 'for one thing, no one can deny the beauty of