The Women of the West 57 



" Do you carry life insurance ? " she asked. 



" I do, madam." 



" In what companies, sir ? " 



"Upon my honour, madam, I do not see how 

 that concerns you." 



She explained that she represented a new com- 

 pany, that an exchange would benefit both of us, 

 and so on and so forth. After five minutes of this 

 I said quietly, — 



" I am sure that your time is money to you, so 

 I tell you frankly that I have gone into the subject 

 of insurance, that I belong to an old-line company, 

 and that nothing you can say will make me leave 

 it. And so I wish you — • Good-morning." 



The hint was wasted. For another ten minutes 

 her tongue wagged faster that a terrier's tail. By 

 this time I had almost forgotten her sex. 



"Madam," said I, "I made a mistake just now. 

 I perceive that your time is not worth much, not 

 as much as — mine, for instance. I wish you again 

 — Good-morning." 



I rose, and held open the door. She rose also, 

 somewhat after the fashion of the immortal Sairey 

 Gamp. 



"You are an Englishman," she said, and there 

 was not sugar enough left in her voice to sweeten 

 a fairy's cup of tea. 



"lam." 



"Yes, you are. And let me tell you, sir, that 

 you are the rudest Englishman I have ever met. 

 Good-morning, sir." 



I did not grudge her the last word. 



A well-known Californian tells another story. 



