"Don't you suppose they know about society?" asked Bessie Alden.
"Oh, I dare say they know; they were so very clever. But these fashionable novels," said Lord Lambeth, "they are awful rot, you know."
His companion looked at him a moment with her dark blue eyes, and then she looked down in the chasm where the water was tumbling about. "Do you mean Mrs. Gore, for instance?" she said, presently, raising her eyes.
"I am afraid I haven't read that, either," was the young man's rejoinder, laughing a little and blushing. "I am afraid you'll think I am not very intellectual."
"Reading Mrs. Gore is no proof of intellect. But I like reading every thing about English life—even poor books. I am so curious about it."
"Aren't ladies always curious?" asked the young man, jestingly.
But Bessie Alden appeared to desire to answer his question seriously. "I don't think so—I don't think we are enough so that we care about many things. So it's all the more of a compliment," she added, "that I should want to know so much about England."
The logic here seemed a little close; but Lord Lambeth, made conscious of a compliment, found
