Mr. Watts-Dunton spoke with such emphasis, and his voice is so penetrating, that those on the opposite side of the table began to pause in their conversation to listen to it, and this stopped the little duel between the two. After the ladies had retired, Mr. Lowell drew up his chair to Mr. Watts-Dunton and said:
“You were very sharp upon me just now, sir.”
“Not in the least,” said Mr. Watts-Dunton. “You were making an onslaught on my poor little island, and you really seemed as though you were addressing your conversation to me.”
“Well,” replied Mr. Lowell, “I will confess that I did address my conversation partially to you; you are, I think, Mr. Theodore Watts.”
“That is my little name,” said Mr. Watts-Dunton. “But I really don’t see why that should induce you to address your conversation to me. I suppose it is because absurd paragraphs have often appeared in the American newspapers stating that I am strongly anti-American in my sympathies. An entire mistake! I have several charming American friends, and I am a great admirer of many of your most eminent writers. But I notice that whensoever an American book is severely handled in the ‘Athenæum,’ the article is attributed to me.”
“I do not think,” said Mr. Lowell, “that you are a lover of my country, but I am not one of those who attribute to you articles that you never wrote.”
And he then drew his chair nearer to his interlocutor, and became more confidential.
“Well,” he said, “I will tell you something that, I think, will not be altogether unpleasant to you. When I came to take up my permanent residence in London a short time ago, I was talking to a friend of mine about London and Londoners, and I said to him: ‘There is one man whom I very much want to meet.’ ‘You!’ said he, ‘why, you can meet anybody from the royal family downwards. Who is the man you want to meet?’ ‘It is a man in the literary world,’ said I, ‘and I have no doubt you can introduce me to him. It is the writer of the chief poetical criticism in the “Athenæum.”’ My friend laughed. ‘Well, it is curious,’ he replied: ‘that is one of the few men in the literary world I cannot introduce you to. I scarcely know him, and, besides, not long ago he passed strictures on my writing which I don’t much approve of.’ Does that interest you?” added Mr. Lowell.
