sport played into his hands; comforting himself,
if he thought of the thing, with the knowledge that he himself would
have been crushed if the other man had not. He had never been wilfully
unfair, nor had he used dishonourable means to secure his ends: his name
stood high in his own country for commercial integrity; men said: he
"played square." He had, maybe, too keen a contempt for dulness and
incompetency in enterprise, and he loathed red-tape; but this
was racial. His mind was as open as his manners. He was utterly
approachable. He was a millionaire, and yet in his own offices in New
York he was as accessible as a President. He handled things without
gloves, and this was not a good thing for any that came to him with a
weak case. He had a penetrating intelligence; and few men attempted,
after their first sophistical statements, to impose upon him: he sent
them away unhappy. He did not like England altogether: first, because it
lacked, as he said, enterprise; and because the formality, decorum and
excessive convention fretted him. He saw that in many things the old
land was backward, and he thought that precious time was being wasted.
Still, he could see that there were things, purely social, in which
the Londoners were at advantage; and he acknowledged this when he said,
concerning Stephen Pride's fond boast, that he was "talking through his
hat."

Lady Lawless smiled, and after a moment rejoined:

"Does it mean that he was mumming, as it were, like a conjurer?"

"Exactly. You are pretty smart, Lady Lawless; for I can see that, from
your stand-point, it isn't always easy to catch the meaning of sayings
like that. But they do hit the case, don't they?"

"They give a good deal of individuality to conversation," was the vague
reply. "What, do you think, is the chief lack in England?"

"Nerve and enterprise. But I'm not going to say you ought to have the
same kind of nerve as ours. We are a different tribe, with different
surroundings, and we don't sit in the same kind of saddle. We ride for
all we're worth all the time. You sit back and take it easy. We are
never satisfied unless we are behind a fast trotter; you are
content with a good cob that steps high, tosses its head, and has an
aristocratic stride."

"Have you been in the country much?" she asked, without any seeming
relevancy.

He was keen enough. He saw the veiled point of her question. "No: I've
never been in the country here," he said. "I suppose yo