Mr. Thrall and Lord Moors must have seen us coming,
for they met us at the door of the tent without the
intervention of the footman, and gave us quite as
much welcome as we could expect in our mission, so
disagreeable all round. Mr. Thrall was as fatherly
with me as before, and Lord Moors was as polite to
Cyril and Mrs. Chrysostom as could have been wished.
In fact he and Cyril were a sort of acquaintances
from the time of Cyril’s visit to England where
he met the late Earl Moors, the father of the present
peer, in some of his visits to Toynbee Hall, and the
Whitechapel Settlements. The earl was very much
interested in the slums, perhaps because he was rather
poor himself, if not quite slummy. The son was
then at the university, and when he came out and into
his title he so far shared his father’s tastes
that he came to America; it was not slumming, exactly,
but a nobleman no doubt feels it to be something like
it. After a little while in New York he went
out to Colorado, where so many needy noblemen bring
up, and there he met the Thralls, and fell in love
with the girl. Cyril had understood—or
rather Mrs. Cyril,—that it was a love-match
on both sides, but on Mrs. Thrall’s side it was
business. He did not even speak of settlements—the
English are so romantic when they are romantic!—but
Mr. Thrall saw to all that, and the young people were
married after a very short courtship. They spent
their honeymoon partly in Colorado Springs and partly
in San Francisco, where the Thralls’ yacht was
lying, and then they set out on a voyage round the
world, making stops at the interesting places, and
bringing up on the beach of the Seventh Region of
Altruria, on route for the eastern coast of South
America. From that time on, Cyril said, we knew
their history.
After Mr. Thrall had shaken hands tenderly with me,
and cordially with Aristides, he said, “Won’t
you all come inside and have breakfast with us?
My wife and daughter”—
“Thank you, Mr. Thrall,” Cyril answered
for us, “we will sit down here, if you please;
and as your ladies are not used to business, we will
not ask you to disturb them.”
“I’m sure Lady Moors,” the young
nobleman began, but Cyril waved him silent.
“We shall be glad later, but not now! Gentlemen,
I have asked my friends Aristides Homos and Eveleth
Homos to accompany my wife and me this morning because
Eveleth is an American, and will understand your position,
and he has lately been in America and will be able
to clarify the situation from both sides. We
wish you to believe that we are approaching you in
the friendliest spirit, and that nothing could be more
painful to us than to seem inhospitable.”
“Then why,” the old man asked, with business-like
promptness, “do you object to our presence here?
I don’t believe I get your idea.”
“Because the spectacle which your life offers
is contrary to good morals, and as faithful citizens
we cannot countenance it.”
Copyrights
Through the Eye of the Needle from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
