“They’re not perfect,” Sean allowed. He gave Lord Rivers a wise look. “Young Mr. Roosevelt has a lot of energy, but he may find the task harder than he thinks.”

“But you wouldn’t deny that New York City is corrupt?” Gerald pursued.

And now Sean looked across the table at the young aristocrat with an even gaze.

“I wouldn’t deny it. And I’m afraid it has been so for two hundred and thirty years.” He paused just a moment. “Ever since the British took it over from the Dutch.”

“Oh, well done,” cried Lord Rivers. He and his wife were obviously very pleased with this bit of repartee. And you had to admire Sean, thought Mary. He’d made his assessment of these English aristocrats, and knew exactly how to handle them.

“Now the American I should like to have met in London,” Sean continued, looking around the table with a twinkle in his eye, “is the lovely Jennie Jerome, as she used to be. Lady Randolph Churchill, now. I remember her as a girl.”

The two Riverdales looked at each other.

“Beautiful,” said His Lordship, cryptically.

“Not good?” Mary asked.

“There’s a particular set around the Prince of Wales, Miss O’Donnell,” said Lady Rivers quietly. “We do not belong to it. They are what we call ‘fast.’ Lady Randolph Churchill is part of it.”

“Oh,” said Mary. “In New York, men quite often have mistresses.”

“Well,” said Lady Rivers, “the fast set believes in perfect equality between the sexes, in that regard.”

“A remarkable woman, Jennie Churchill, all the same,” said His Lordship. He paused a moment. “Tell me, as you would know, there was a rumor that the father was”—he dropped his voice a bit—“Jewish.”

“Sounds it, but isn’t,” Sean assured him. “The name Jerome is French. They were Huguenots.” He chuckled. “There may be some Indian blood there, but that’s on his wife’s side.”

“Does Jennie have children?” asked Mary.

“Two boys,” Lady Rivers answered. “We saw the eldest, Winston, not long ago.”

“Not everybody likes him,” Gerald interrupted, and earned a bleak look from his father.

“Why’s that?” asked Sean.

“People say,” replied Gerald, “he’s too pushy.”