turned and smiled down on me. “We English,” she said, “are a practical people. We assimilate 'um.”
“Then, I suppose, they don't give trouble?”
“Then they don't give trouble.”
“They learn to shoot?”
“And all that,” said Lady Forthundred. “Yes. And things go on. Sometimes better than others, but they go on—somehow. It depends very much on the sort of butler who pokes 'um about.”
I suggested that it might be possible to get a secure twenty thousand a year by at least detrimental methods—socially speaking.
“We must take the bad and the good of 'um,” said Lady Forthundred, courageously....
Now, was she a sample? It happened she talked. What was there in the brains of the multitude of her first, second, third, fourth, and fifth cousins, who didn't talk, who shone tall, and bearing themselves finely, against a background of deft, attentive maids and valets, on