“Ah, yes—yes,” his father responded, dashed a little. But the boy’s voice was not unpleasant; his accent, considering whence he came, far better than could have been expected; and as for his locutions, his choice of words, “I must cure you of your Americanisms,” the hopeful parent added.
“There, to begin with, don’t call me sir. Reserve that for Royalty. I said I must try to break you of some of your Americanisms.”
“Oh, I know. The English say railway for railroad, and box for trunk.”
“Ah, if it began and ended there!” sighed Weir.
“But I don’t see why our way isn’t as good as theirs. We’ve got a population of sixty millions to their thirty, and——”
“Oh come, now! Don’t confuse the argument by introducing figures.”
But at this Harold stared so hard that his father’s conscience smote him a little, and he asked sympathetically, “I’m afraid you take life rather seriously, don’t you?”
“Why, certainly,” the young man answered with gravity. “Isn’t that the way to take it?”
“Oh, bless you, no. It’s too grim a business. The proper spirit to take it in is one of unseemly levity.”
“I don’t think I understand you—unless you’re joking.”
“You need limbering up a bit, that’s all,” declared his father. “But I say, we must get you a decent hat. Later in the day I’m going to trot you off to Mrs. Midsomer-Norton’s for tea. Well stop at a hatter’s now.” And he gave the necessary instructions to his coachman.
“What is the matter with the hat I’ve got on?”
“We’re not wearing that shape in London.”
“Don’t know. I’m sure. Five-and twenty shillings, I expect.”
“Well, this one cost me eight dollars in Boston just about three weeks ago. Don’t you think it would be extravagant to get a new one so soon?”
“Oh, damn the extravagance. We must ‘gae fine’ whatever we do.”
This time there was a distinct shadow of pain in Harold’s stare; and he preserved a rueful silence till the brougham drew up at Scott’s. He followed his father into the shop, however, and submitted stolidly to the operation of being fitted. When it came to paying, he pulled a very long face indeed, and appeared to have an actual mechanical difficulty in squeezing the essential coin from his purse.
“Now you look like a Christian,” his father averred, as they got back into the carriage.