one's being an American," Mrs. Freer rejoined, with a little philosophic sigh.
"It 's whatever one chooses to make it."
"Well, you 11 make it what no one has done yet, if you take that young lady to America and make her happy there."
"Do you think it 's such a very dreadful place?"
"No, indeed; but she will."
Jackson Lemon got up from his chair, and took up his hat and stick. He had actually turned a little pale, with the force of his emotion; it had made him really quiver that his marriage to Lady Barberina should be looked at as too high a flight. He stood a moment leaning against the mantelpiece, and very much tempted to say to Mrs. Freer that she was a vulgar-minded old woman. But he said something that was really more to the point: "You forget that she will have her consolations."
"Don't go away, or I shall think I have offended you. You can't console a wounded marchioness."
"How will she be wounded? People will be charming to her."
"They will be charming to her—charming to her!" These words fell from the lips of Dexter Freer, who had opened the door of the room and stood with the knob in his hand, putting himself into relation to his wife's talk with their visitor. This was accomplished in an instant. "Of course I know whom you mean," he said, while he exchanged greetings with Jackson Lemon. "My wife and I—of
