hat Vic has when
her shoes are tight and Mother is in a trying mood at the same time. I
shouldn't be surprised if he has a horrid temper, although he thinks of
so many funny things. And though he is so nice to me, he can't help
saying things sometimes which show that he has a prejudice against
England. That seems extraordinary, and shows one how conceited we
English really are; for one is quite accustomed to the idea that there
may be people who don't care for Americans, but it is odd that
Americans may not like us. I suppose it's on a par with the sentiments
in our National Anthem, which when one comes to analyse them, don't
exactly suggest a sense of give and take--or, for that matter, a sense
of humour.

"Confound _their_ politics, frustrate _their_ knavish tricks," but
naturally bless everything in which We are concerned, as We are certain
to be above reproach. I'm afraid that's quite of a piece with the calm
confidence we have in our own superiority, although I daresay I should
never have realised it if it weren't for Mr. Potter Parker and his
perky nose.

It began to be less perky when we were all settled at a table in a
perfectly charming restaurant, the most restful place to eat in that I
ever saw. I can't imagine even a fiend being ill-tempered in it for
long; and it was deliciously cool, as if we had come into a shadowy
green wood after the blazing, brassy glare of the streets.

The big room really was rather like a wood, so the simile isn't
far-fetched;--an open space in a wood, ringed round with tall trees
bending their branches low over a still pool. The soothing brown of the
wainscoted walls gave the tree-trunk effect; the great hanging baskets
of ferns and moss that swung from the ceiling were the tree-branches;
and the many round, snow-white tables, with green velvet chairs grouped
closely round them on the polished floor were the water-lilies with
green pads floating on the surface of the pond.

Nearly everything we had for lunch was in a more or less advanced state
of frozenness, from the bouillon, ever so far along to the ices in the
shape of different-coloured fruits, toward the end. Nevertheless, all
of us, except Potter, drank iced water instead of wine whenever we
stopped eating for an instant, or couldn't think of anything particular
to say; and the more we had the more we seemed to want. There was a
kind of iced-water curse upon us.

It has never occurred to Vic or me to lie down in the af