but it pleases people at your expense."

"I am certainly too simple to understand you," said Bessie.

"Shall I tell you a story?" asked her sister.

"If you would be so good. That is what they do to amuse simple people."

Mrs. Westgate consulted her memory, while her companion sat gazing
at the shining sea. "Did you ever hear of the Duke of Green-Erin?"

"I think not," said Bessie.

"Well, it's no matter," her sister went on.

"It's a proof of my simplicity."

"My story is meant to illustrate that of some other people,"
said Mrs. Westgate. "The Duke of Green-Erin is what they call in
England a great swell, and some five years ago he came to America.
He spent most of his time in New York, and in New York he spent his
days and his nights at the Butterworths'. You have heard, at least,
of the Butterworths. Bien. They did everything in the world for him--
they turned themselves inside out. They gave him a dozen dinner parties
and balls and were the means of his being invited to fifty more.
At first he used to come into Mrs. Butterworth's box at the opera
in a tweed traveling suit; but someone stopped that. At any rate,
he had a beautiful time, and they parted the best friends in the world.
Two years elapse, and the Butterworths come abroad and go to London.
The first thing they see in all the papers--in England those things