“You think it is best to take your husband home before he denies even them,” Mr. Morgan added.
When the others had gone, Margaret sat by the fire, musing, as if no one else were in the room. The Englishman, still alert and eager for information, regarded her with growing interest. It came into my mind as odd that, being such an uninteresting people as we are, the English should be so curious about us. After an interval, Mr. Lyon said:
“I beg your pardon, Miss Debree, but would you mind telling me whether the movement of Women's Rights is gaining in America?”
“I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Lyon,” Margaret replied, after a pause, with a look of weariness. “I'm tired of all the talk about it. I wish men and women, every soul of them, would try to make the most of themselves, and see what would come of that.”
“But in some places they vote about schools, and you have conventions—”
“Did you ever attend any kind of convention yourself, Mr. Lyon?”
“I? No. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Neither did I. But you have a right to, you know. I should like to ask you one question, Mr. Lyon,” the girl, continued, rising.
“Should be most obliged.”
“Why is it that so few English women marry Americans?”