“It depends,” she said, “whether the good is to accrue to yourself or to other people.”
“Oh, to myself,” he replied, smiling. “I am not a philanthropist—quite the other way about.”
“Then, whatever it is, you oughtn’t to do it,” said the girl, decidedly. “It will be horrid of you to as much as contemplate anything of the kind. You had much better do good lest evil befall; and the opportunity occurs right here, at this very moment.”
“I shall be most happy—without prejudice to my intentions as to the reverse of the medal,” said Beaumanoir, lightly.
“Then help me to avoid a lecture from my mother by taking me for a promenade,” proceeded Leonie, indicating a portly lady who had ascended from the lower deck and was peering about in search. “She is the best and dearest of mothers, but she has set her heart on a vain thing, and it is becoming the least bit tiresome. I can see that she is going to din it into me again, if she catches me. Her idea is that the sole duty of an American girl going to England is to ‘spread herself,’ as they say out West, to marry an English duke.”
[24]
