"It does surprise me," said Ashburner, "that the terminus of a refined American's dream should always be Paris,--that whenever a man has means and leisure, he runs off thither, and stays as long as he can: and if not there, in some other place--anywhere but at home."
"Come now," broke in Henry Benson; he had retired with the ladies after dinner, and now rejoined the men to have some more claret,--"don't you English run over to Paris perpetually, and all around the continent? Don't we meet you everywhere in the four quarters of the globe? You don't like to stay at home any more than we do; only we are franker than you, and avow it."
"We _go_ away from home, but we don't like to _stay_ away," replied the Englishman.
"Exactly; and if we had a _pied-à-terre_ close to the continent as you have, we should not like to stay away from home either--more than half the year. Here has Carl been making his moan to you about our unappreciated condition; it's always his way over the decanters--one of his amusements merely. (Carl, old fellow, pass the Laffitte this way.) Well, I think," and he paused to fill a brimming glass, "that we are very jolly victims; and for my part, I am quite disposed to play, regardless of my doom. Look at our wives and children, our houses and horses, our whole style of living. Ponder well on this _Bourdeaux;_ ruminate on those woodcocks we have been discussing. What miserable misused fellows we are! We _do_ live in a great country--we have such civil and religious liberty as is enjoyed in only one other country in the world; and if we don't have the management of the government, why no one here or abroad holds us responsible for what the government does, and that is just the condition Plato thought a philosopher should pray for. Fill up again, brother mine, and thank your stars that you have your time to yourself, and are not a parliament man, as Ashburner is going to be, and are not set to work twelve hours a day among blue books and red tape."
