When next day the party came to break up, she contrived in the manner of her farewell to make the American understand that because of their conversation she bore him not ill will but good will.
Once more, the scene of my anecdote is at table, a long table in a club, where men came to lunch.

All were Englishmen, except a single stranger.
He was an American, who through the kindness of one beloved member of that club, no longer living now, had received a card to the club.

The American, upon sitting down alone in this company, felt what I suppose that many of us feel in like circumstances: he wished there were somebody there who knew him and could nod to him.

Nevertheless, he was spoken to, asked questions about various of his fellow countrymen, and made at home.

Presently, however, an elderly member who had been silent and whom I will designate as being of the Dr.Samuel Johnson type, said: "You seem to be having trouble in your packing houses over in America ?" We were.
"Very disgraceful, those exposures." They were.