"Yes, by divine right," responded the older man.
The Irishman adjusted his monocle, to view Esther more critically.
"She looks more like an English woman," he said meditatively. "Rather too slender to be a beauty."
"She was born on the free soil of America," continued his companion, "and has some ideas of her own."
The Irishman smiled cynically.
"As if a pretty girl ever had ideas of her own! She usually knows just what her mamma or governess teaches her. I always find a pretty girl an easy victim. I've broken more than one innocent's heart." He twirled his moustache.
"You'll not get on so well with Miss Bright. You see, she is used to meeting men." John Clayton looked a trifle wicked, as he continued, "She might take you for a long-headed animal with long ears."
But the last remark was lost upon the Irishman, whose attention was fixed upon Esther Bright.
"You say her ancestors were savages, Mr. Clayton?"
"I suppose they were savages, same as ours. She has the best heritage the ages can give,—a healthy body, a beautiful mind, and a heroic soul."