"I shall pay them the greatest attention," she said. "It was a noble thing in young Tyrrel-Rawdon to give up everything for honorable love, and I think everyone ought to have stood by him.""That wouldn't have done at all. If Tyrrel had been petted as you think he ought to have been, every respectable young man and woman in the county would have married where their fancy led them; and the fancies of young people mostly lead them to the road it is ruin to take.""From what Fred Mostyn says, Tyrrel's descendants seem to have taken a very respectable road.""I've nothing to say for or against them.
It's years and years since I laid eyes on any of the family. Your grandfather helped one of the young men to come to America, and I remember his mother getting into a passion about it. She was a fat woman in a Paisley shawl and a love-bird on her bonnet.
I saw his sister often. She weighed about twelve stone, and had red hair and red cheeks and bare red elbows. She was called a `strapping lass.' That is quite a complimentary term in the West Riding.""Please, grandmother, I don't want to hear any more. In two weeks I shall be able to judge for myself. Since then there have been two generations, and if a member of the present one is fit for Parliament----""That's nothing. We needn't look for anything specially refined in Parliament in these days. There's another thing. These Tyrrel-Rawdons are chapel people. The rector of Rawdon church would not marry Tyrrel to his low-born love, and so they went to the Methodist preacher, and after that to the Methodist chapel. That put them down, more than you can imagine here in America.""It was a shame! Methodists are most respectable people.""I'm saying nothing contrary."
"The President is a Methodist."
"I never asked what he was. I am a Church of England woman, you know that.
Born and bred in the Church, baptized, confirmed, and married in the Church, and Iwas always taught it was the only proper Church for gentlemen and gentlewomen to be saved in. However, English Methodists often go back to the Church when they get rich.""Church or chapel makes no difference to me, grandmother. If people are only good.""To be sure; but you won't be long in England until you'll find out that some things make a great deal of difference. Do you know your father was here this morning?
He wanted me to go with you--a likely, thing.""But, grandmother, do come. We will take such good care of you, and----""I know, but I'd rather keep my old memories of Yorkshire than get new-fashioned ones. All is changed. I can tell that by what Fred says. My three great friends are dead. They have left children and grandchildren, of course, but I don't want to make new acquaintances at my age, unless I have the picking of them. No, I shall get Miss Hillis to go with me to my little cabin on the Jersey coast. We'll take our knitting and the fresh novels, and I'll warrant we'll see as much of the new men and women in them as will more than satisfy us. But you must write me long letters, and tell me everything about the Squire and the way he keeps house, and I don't care if you fill up the paper with the Tyrrel-Rawdons.""I will write you often, Granny, and tell you everything.""I shouldn't wonder if you come across Dora Stanhope, but I wouldn't ask her to Rawdon. She'll mix some cup of bother if you do.""I know."
In such loving and intimate conversation the hours sped quickly, and Ethel could not bear to cut short her visit. It was nearly five when she left Gramercy Park, but the day being lovely, and the avenue full of carriages and pedestrians, she took the drive at its enforced tardiness without disapproval.
Almost on entering the avenue from Madison Square there was a crush, and her carriage came to a standstill. She was then opposite the store of a famous English saddler, and near her was an open carriage occupied by a middle-aged gentleman in military uniform.
