"We don't offer our daughters to people, Mr. Lemon." Lady Canterville was always gentle, but now she was a little majestic.
"She is n't like some women in London, you know," said Jackson Lemon's host, who seemed to remember that to a discussion of such importance he ought from time to time to contribute a word of wisdom. And Jackson Lemon, certainly, if the idea had been presented to him, would have said that, No, decidedly, Lady Barberina had not been thrown at him.
"Of course not," he declared, in answer to her mother's remark. "But, you know, you must n't refuse them too much, either; you must n't make a poor fellow wait too long. I admire her, I love her, more than I can say; I give you my word of honor for that."
"He seems to think that settles it," said Lord Canterville, smiling down at the young American, very pleasantly, from his place before the cold chimney-piece.
"Of course that's what we desire, Phillip," her ladyship returned, very nobly.
"Lady Barb believes it; I am sure she does!"
Jackson Lemon exclaimed. "Why should I pretend to be in love with her if I am not?"
Lady Canterville received this inquiry in silence, and her husband, with just the least air in the world of repressed impatience, began to walk up and down the room. He was a man of many engagements, and he had been closeted for more than a quarter of an
