"Ain't it, Nigel ?" He turned his head slowly towards her, as if she had taken a new liberty in disturbing his meditations.
"Wha--at ?" he drawled.
It was almost too much for her to sustain herself under.

Her courage collapsed.
"I was only saying how pretty the cottages were," she faltered.

"And that there's nothing like this in America." "You ended your remark by adding, 'ain't it,'" her husband condescended.

"There is nothing like that in England.

I shall ask you to do me the favour of leaving Americanisms out of your conversation when you are in the society of English ladies and gentlemen.