I laughed, more to chase away her evident embarrassment than because there was anything really to laugh about. I have noticed that a laugh sometimes drives away restraint. It is the most useful of human ejaculations, and often succeeds where words would fail.
“A warning in exchange for your warning!” I exclaimed as cheerfully as I could. “I, too, am a paid servant of the owner of this yacht.”
“I did not expect to hear the cousin of Lord Tremorne admit as much,” she replied, thawing somewhat.
“Well, you have just heard the cousin of his lordship do so, and I may add on behalf of Lord Tremorne that if he were in my place I know his candour would compel him to say the same thing.”
“Englishmen think themselves very honest, do they not?” she commented, somewhat ungraciously, it seemed to me, for after all I was trying to make conversation, always a difficult task when there is veiled opposition.
“Oh, some Englishmen are honest, and some are not, as is the case with other nationalities. I don’t suppose a dishonest Englishman would have any delusions about the matter, and perhaps if you pressed him he would admit his delinquency. I hope you are not prejudiced against us as a nation; and, if you are, I sincerely trust you will not allow any impression you may have acquired regarding myself to deepen that prejudice, because I am far from being a representative Englishman.”
We were now walking up and down the deck together, but her next remark brought me to an amazed standstill.
“If you possess the candour with which you have just accredited yourself and your people, you would have said that you hoped I was not prejudiced against your nation, but you were certain, if such unfortunately was the case, the charm of your manner and the delight of your conversation would speedily remove it.”
“Good gracious, Miss Stretton,” I cried, “do you take me for a conceited ass?”