"There's none of it; and now I come to think of it, I mean tout ensemble. How quick of you to see what I meant! But that's just it. My heart—and I told Mr. Murchison so the first time I saw him—is English. My head may be American, but my heart is English. Those were my words, ipse dixit."
"Very remarkable," said Tom.
"The air of dignity," continued Mrs. Murchison (soup always thawed her), "and the simile of tastes which I find in England! The wealth without ostensity—I should say ostentiousness! The solid comfort and no gimcrackiness!"
"I am afraid you will find plenty of gimcrackiness if you go to the suburbs," said Tom.
"I haven't yet projected any trips to the suburbs," said Mrs. Murchison with some dignity.
"Of course not. The proper definition of suburbs is the place to which one does not go. They are merely a negative geographical expression."
"Well, I'm an Anglophobe," said Mrs. Murchison with conviction; "and I believe nothing against England, not even its suburbs. But what would you say, Lord Abbotsworthy, was the main tendency of the upper classes in England?"
Tom was slightly puzzled.
"Tendency in what line?" he asked.
"By tendency I mean the direction in which they are advancing?"