He sat there a good while: there was a great deal of talk;
it was all very friendly and lively and jolly. Everyone present,
sooner or later, said something to him, and seemed to make
a particular point of addressing him by name. Two or three other
persons came in, and there was a shifting of seats and changing
of places; the gentlemen all entered into intimate conversation
with the two Englishmen, made them urgent offers of hospitality,
and hoped they might frequently be of service to them.
They were afraid Lord Lambeth and Mr. Beaumont were not very
comfortable at their hotel; that it was not, as one of them said,
"so private as those dear little English inns of yours."
This last gentleman went on to say that unfortunately,
as yet, perhaps, privacy was not quite so easily obtained
in America as might be desired; still, he continued,
you could generally get it by paying for it; in fact,
you could get everything in America nowadays by paying for it.
American life was certainly growing a great deal more private;
it was growing very much like England. Everything at Newport,
for instance, was thoroughly private; Lord Lambeth would
probably be struck with that. It was also represented to
the strangers that it mattered very little whether their hotel
was agreeable, as everyone would want them to make visits;
they would stay with other people, and, in any case,
they would be a great deal at Mrs. Westgate's. They would find
that very charming; it was the pleasantest house in Newport.
It was a pity Mr. Westgate was always away; he was a man
of the highest ability--very acute, very acute. He worked like
a horse, and he left his wife--well, to do about as she liked.
He liked her to enjoy herself, and she seemed to know how.