He said he couldn't let it get around that the Earls of Lambeth was shootin' English soldiers." "Of course he couldn't," agreed Yancy.
"It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to England and see the king about my title.

I 'low he'd be some surprised to see us.

I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls of Lambeth done fo' him--that they was always loyal, and thought a heap better of him than their neighbors done, and mebby some better than he deserved.

Don't you reckon that not hearin' from us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has petered out ?" Mr.Yancy considered this likely, and said so.
"You might send him writin' in a letter," he suggested.
The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon them.
"It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!" said Mr.Cavendish, and fled in haste to the steering oar.
During all the long days that followed, Mr.Yancy was forced to own that these titled friends of his were, despite their social position, uncommon white in their treatment of him.

The Earl of Lambeth consorted with him in that fine spirit that recognizes the essential brotherhood of man, while his Lady Countess was, as Yancy observed, on the whole, a person of simple and uncorrupted tastes.