Westgate gave one of his slow, keen looks again. ‘‘What’s your railroad?’’ he asked.

‘‘The Tennessee Central.’’

The American tilted back his chair a little and poised it an instant. ‘‘Well, I’m sorry you want to attack one of our institutions,’’ he said, smiling. ‘‘But I guess you had better enjoy yourself first!’’

‘‘I’m certainly rather afraid I can’t work in this weather,’’ the young barrister confessed.

‘‘Leave that to the natives,’’ said Mr. Westgate. ‘‘Leave the Tennessee Central to me, Mr. Beaumont. Some day we’ll talk it over, and I guess I can make it square. But I didn’t know you Englishmen ever did any work, in the upper classes.’’

‘‘Oh, we do a lot of work; don’t we, Lambeth?’’ asked Percy Beaumont.

‘‘I must certainly be at home by the 19th of September,’’ said the younger Englishman, irrelevantly but gently.

‘‘For the shooting, eh? or is it the hunting, or the fishing?’’ inquired his entertainer.

‘‘Oh, I must be in Scotland,’’ said Lord Lambeth, blushing a little.

‘‘Well, then,’’ rejoined Mr. Westgate, ‘‘you had better amuse yourself first, also. You must go down and see Mrs. Westgate.’’

‘‘We should be so happy, if you would kindly tell us the train,’’ said Percy Beaumont.

‘‘It isn’t a train—it’s a boat.’’

‘‘Oh, I see. And what is the name of—a—the—a— town?’’

‘‘It isn’t a town,’’ said Mr. Westgate, laughing. ‘‘It’s a—well, what shall I call it? It’s a watering place. In short, it’s Newport. You’ll see what it is. It’s cool; that’s the principal thing. You will greatly oblige me by going down there and putting yourself into the hands of Mrs. Westgate. It isn’t perhaps for me to say it, but you couldn’t be in better hands. Also in those of her sister, who is staying with her. She is very fond of Englishmen. She thinks there is nothing like them.’’

‘‘Mrs. Westgate or—a—her sister?’’ asked Percy Beaumont modestly, yet in the tone of an inquiring traveler.

‘‘Oh, I mean my wife,’’ said Mr. Westgate. ‘‘I don’t suppose my sister-in-law knows much about them. She has always led a very quiet life; she has lived in Boston.’’

Percy Beaumont listened with interest. ‘‘That, I believe,’’ he said, ‘‘is the most—a—intellectual town?’’

‘‘I believe it is very intellectual. I don’t go there much,’’ responded his host.

‘‘I say, we ought to go there,’’ said Lord Lambeth to his companion.

‘‘Oh, Lord Lambeth, wait till the great heat is over,’’ Mr.