I dedicate this book with love to my cousin, Mary Brandegee, who is as dear to me as a sister. “She vanished through the fingers like a card in the hands of a magician.”[Pg v] [Pg v] FOREWORD Of the many subjects open to the novelist none is more fertile in interests than the international theme, and none more arresting in appeal. Clash of character being the starting point of drama we have it amplified in the international by both sympathy and dissonance. Mutual attraction between individuals will sometimes overleap racial differences in point of view; and yet racial differences in point of view will always be at war with mutual attraction between individuals. All contrasts, all complexities, are focussed on this single stage, while one gets as nowhere else the conflict which each new-born generation cannot but wage against the dictation of the ages. On this crowded scene bring in that American element to which the dictation of the ages means relatively nothing and the wealth of the dramatic field becomes obvious. It is curious, therefore, that it has been so little touched. It has been entered, but not[Pg vi] very far. The great Russian and French novelists, with their concentration on the life immediately round them, in the main ignore it. The English have worked it a little, but not often, and not with much insight. The truth seems to be that the European nations, with their strong lines of cleavage, have difficulty in understanding each other, while they understand America not at all. Steeped and dyed in their own national prepossessions they regard other national prepossessions with indifference, amazement, or hostility. There are exceptions to this statement, of course. I speak only of general tendencies. The trend of events since the war even more than the war itself brings home to us the fact that the European mind is tribal. [Pg vi] The American mind is more open, as it is natural that it should be. It has its national prepossessions; but it has them less exclusively. Moreover, it is endowed to an unusual degree with the impulse of curiosity. It likes to see, to know, to explore. Beyond any other type of mind it regards a foreigner as a man and a brother, and not as a foe. To the American a[Pg vii] foreigner’s life, habits, prejudices, and outlooks are of interest. He often likes them. He generally finds them picturesque. He may think them foolish, but he never thinks them dull. Being so busily occupied in
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