an album, knowing that your lordship was a member of ours. If I
may say so, your lordship--a beautiful young lady."

"Devilish attractive, Adams--and devilish rich. Mr. Peters is a
millionaire, Adams."

"So I read in the paper, your lordship."

"Damme! They all seem to be millionaires in America. Wish I knew
how they managed it. Honestly, I hope. Mr. Peters is an honest
man, but his digestion is bad. He used to bolt his food. You
don't bolt your food, I hope, Adams?"

"No, your lordship; I am most careful."

"The late Mr. Gladstone used to chew each mouthful thirty-three
times. Deuced good notion if you aren't in a hurry. What cheese
would you recommend, Adams?"

"The gentlemen are speaking well of the Gorgonzola."

"All right, bring me some. You know, Adams, what I admire about
Americans is their resource. Mr. Peters tells me that as a boy of
eleven he earned twenty dollars a week selling mint to saloon
keepers, as they call publicans over there. Why they wanted mint
I cannot recollect. Mr. Peters explained the reason to me and it
seemed highly plausible at the time; but I have forgotten it.
Possibly for mint sauce. It impressed me, Adams. Twenty dollars
is four pounds. I never earned four pounds a week when I was a
boy of eleven; in fact, I don't think I ever earned four pounds a