"Great Scot! This is, indeed, an incentive to continue in our evil ways," cried the doctor. "You cannot be English, Miss Ballinger, quite, quite English? A drop of Irish or foreign must be infused into your blue blood, surely?"
"Why so? Are we not the most appreciative nation upon earth?"
"Critical—say critical—and I am with you. You measure everything by one standard—your own. I don't say you are wrong, but it makes English approval sometimes appear to be tinged with—what shall I say? condescension? Do you know the story of the American who drew the attention of a patriotic Briton to a gorgeous sunset here? The Britisher replied,'Sunset? Ah! you should see one of Her Majesty's sunsets!'"
Grace laughed heartily.
"That is very cruel of you, Dr. Parr. I wanted to say such a number of nice things to you, and now I can't. I shall have to pour them all out to Mr. Chudleigh, who won't call my appreciation 'condescension.'"
Here a name, bandied across the table, struck Grace's ear.
"Planter has cornered the market, they say."
"He has high Scriptural authority for doing so," said Chudleigh. "Joseph cornered the market, and made a very good thing out of it."
"I suspect that is more than Planter will do," struck in the general. "He will come to grief some day with his gigantic speculations."
"What!" cried May Clayton, with her chirruping little voice, "has he bitten off more than he can chew?"