Why, until the other day I did not even know that I was an English lady, not until they found those papers." A strange accent for an American! and she certainly said "laidy" for "lady," and "paipper" for "paper," like a cockney.

Alas! This comes of London Music Halls even to country-bred damsels! Arnold made a mental observation that the new-comer might be called anything in the world, but could not be called a lady.

She was handsome, certainly, but how could Claude Deseret's daughter have grown into so common a type of beauty?
Where was the delicacy of feature and manner which Clara had never ceased to commend in speaking of her lost cousin?
"Iris," said Clara, "is our little savage from the American Forest.
She is Queen Pocahontas, who has come over to conquer England and to win all our hearts.

My dear, my Cousin Arnold will help me to make you an English girl." She spoke as in the State of Maine was still the hunting-ground of Sioux and Iroquois.
Arnold thought that a less American-looking girl he had never seen; that she did not speak or look like a lady was to be expected, perhaps, if she had, as was probable, been brought up by rough and unpolished people.

But he had no doubt, any more than Clara herself, as to the identity of the girl.