It seemed odd to Gerald to be called “Mr. Lane.”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Brooke,” he said, “please call me Gerald. I never thought of myself as Mr. Lane.”
“I will do so with pleasure, and it will seem easy and familiar, for I have a Cousin Gerald. His name, too, is not unlike yours. He is Lord Gerald Vane, son of the Marquis of Dunbar.”
“There is one essential difference,” said Gerald. “I am plain Gerald—I can’t call myself a lord.”
“Oh, you are all sovereigns in America,” laughed the Englishman, “and that is higher than the title of lord.”
“Perhaps you are a lord also?” suggested Gerald.
“No, Gerald, not at present. My father has a title, but my elder brother will inherit that. However, that is of little importance here.”
“Have you been long in Colorado, Mr. Brooke?”
“About a month. I was told it was the Switzerland of America. So after visiting your principal cities and having seen your famous Niagara, I pushed on out here, but I didn’t reckon on there being no hotels, or I might have stayed away.”
“There will be plenty of hotels in a few years. There are few settlements as yet.”