“Really, Miss Hampton,” said Lord Avondale, “I regret having been drawn into this discussion. I am quite willing to admit that in many parts of America the people are quite civil. Last winter I was in New Orleans. I found the people of the South remarkably civil,—much more so than the people of the Northern States.”
“And do you know the reason?” asked Marie with flashing eyes.
“No, really, Miss Hampton, I do not. I would be charmed if you would enlighten me, I really would—you know.” A supercilious smile overspread the face of Lord Avondale, while Marie’s handsome countenance glowed with an increased beauty in defending her country.
“That part of our country,” replied she, “New Orleans especially, was settled principally by the French, and the North by the English.”
“Ah! ah!—is that so?” stammered Lord Avondale. “I admit I am somewhat deficient in history, don’t you know.”
Captain Osborn laughed outright, much to the chagrin of his wife.
After they had returned to the parlors, both Mrs. Horton and Mrs. Osborn agreed that Marie had been shockingly rude to Lord Avondale. While they were talking of the affair in one corner, Ethel—sotto voce—was telling Marie that she was the dearest girl in the world, and that she loved her more than ever for having vanquished Lord Avondale.
Soon after, the guests took their departure, and the next day Lord Avondale left Meade on the stage-coach, to enjoy a few months’ shooting in Colorado.