“What would you do in that event?” asked Senator Clay.
“Do?” I asked, hotly and promptly. “I would refuse to accept him!”
My husband’s voice was grave as he said, “I hope there will be no need!”
Arriving at the Embassy, I soon discovered that, as had been rumoured, the maid ordinarily at hand to assist women guests had been replaced by a fair young English serving-man, who took charge of my wraps, and knelt to remove my overshoes with all the deftness of a practised femme de chambre. These preliminaries over, I rejoined my husband in the corridor, and together we proceeded to our host, and, having greeted him, turned aside to speak to other friends.
Presently Senator Brown, Mr. Davis’s confrère from Mississippi, made his way to me. Senator Brown was one of the brightest men in Congress. As he approached, my misgivings vanished and I smiled as I said, “Ah! you are to be my gallant this evening!”
“Not so,” replied he. “I’m to go in with Mme. ——, and shall be compelled to smell ‘camphired’ cleaned gloves for hours!”
LORD LYONS
British Ambassador to the United States
He left my side. Presently he was replaced by Mr. Eames, ex-Minister to Venezuela. Again I conjectured him to be the man who was destined to escort me; but, after the exchange of a few words, he, too, excused himself, and I saw him take his place at the side of his rightful partner. In this way several others came and went, and still I stood alone. I wondered what it all meant, and gave a despairing look at my husband, who, I knew, was rapidly becoming as perturbed as was I. Presently the massive doors slid apart, and a voice proclaimed, “Dinner, my Lord!” Now my consternation gave way to overwhelming surprise and confusion, for our host, glancing inquiringly around the circle, stepped to my side, and, bowing profoundly, offered his arm with, “I have the honour, Madam!” Once at the table, I quickly regained my composure, assisted, perhaps, to this desirable state, by a feeling of triumph as I caught from across the table the amused glance of my erstwhile companion, Mrs. Crittenden.
Lord Lyons’s manner was so unconstrained and easy that I soon became emboldened to the point of suggesting to him the possibility of some lovely American consenting to become “Lyonised.” His Lordship’s prompt rejoinder and quizzical look quite abashed me, and brought me swiftly to the conclusion that I would best let this old lion alone; for he said, “Ah, Madam! do you remember what Uncle Toby said to his nephew when he informed him of his intended marriage?” Then, without waiting for my assent, he added, “Alas! alas! quoth my Uncle Toby, you will never sleep slantindicularly in your bed more!”