Quite secure from observation, he and his wife watched the forerunners with the hand bags; then came the sweating trunk bearers and then the crated objects in--what?
Yes, by the Lord Harry, in the very carts that had been their private chariots the day before! Deppingham's wrath did not really explode until the two were gazing open-mouthed upon Robert Browne and his wife and his maidservants and his ass--for that was the name which his lordship subsequently applied, with no moderation, to the unfortunate gentleman who served as Mr.
Browne's attorney.

The Americans were being swiftly, cozily carried to their new home in litters of oriental comfort and elegance, fanned vigorously from both sides by eager boys.

First came the Brownes, eager-faced, bright-eyed, alert young people, far better looking than their new enemies could conscientiously admit under the circumstances; then the lawyer from the States; then a pert young lady in a pink shirt waist and a sailor hat; then two giggling, utterly un-English maids--and all of them lolling in luxurious ease.

The red jacket was conspicuously absent.
It is not to be wondered at that his lordship looked at his wife, gulped in sympathy, and then said something memorable.
Almost before they could realise what had happened the newcomers were chattering in the spacious halls below, tramping about the rooms, and giving orders in high, though apparently efficacious voices.

Trunks rattled about the place, barefooted natives shuffled up and down the corridors and across the galleries, quick American heels clattered on the marble stairways; and all this time the English occupants sat in cold silence, despising the earth and all that therein dwelt.
Mr.and Mrs.Browne evidently believed in the democratic first principles of their native land: they did not put themselves above their fellow-man.