"That's so," he answered; "and a staving good traveller he is. You don't
catch him asleep, I can tell you, Lady Lawless. He has stuff in him."

"The stuff to make a good American?"

"Yes; with something over. He's the kind of Englishman that can keep cool
when things are ticklish, and look as if he was in a parlour all the
time. Americans keep cool, but look cheeky. O, I know that. We square our
shoulders and turn out our toes, and push our hands into our pockets, and
act as if we owned the world. Hello--by Jingo!" Then, apologetically: "I
beg your pardon, Lady Lawless; it slipped."

Lady Lawless followed Mr. Vandewaters's glance, and saw, passing on her
husband's arm, a tall, fascinating girl. She smiled meaningly to herself,
as she sent a quick quizzical look at the American, and said, purposely
misinterpreting his exclamation: "I am not envious, Mr. Vandewaters."

"Of course not. That's a commoner thing with us than with you. American
girls get more notice and attention from their cradles up, and they want
it all along the line. You see, we've mostly got the idea that an
Englishman expects from his wife what an American woman expects from her
husband."

"How do Americans get these impressions about us?"

"From our newspapers, I guess; and the newspapers take as the ground-work
of their belief the Bow Street cases where Englishmen are cornered for
beating their wives."