Mrs Hurtle At Lowestoft

When Paul got down into the dining-room Mrs Hurtle was already there, and the waiter was standing by the side of the table ready to take the cover off the soup. She was radiant with smiles and made herself especially pleasant during dinner, but Paul felt sure that everything was not well with her. Though she smiled, and talked and laughed, there was something forced in her manner. He almost knew that she was only waiting till the man should have left the room to speak in a different strain. And so it was. As soon as the last lingering dish had been removed, and when the door was finally shut behind the retreating waiter, she asked the question which no doubt had been on her mind since she had walked across the strand to the hotel. 'Your friend was hardly civil; was he, Paul?'

'Do you mean that he should have come in? I have no doubt it was true that he had dined.'

'I am quite indifferent about his dinner,--but there are two ways of declining as there are of accepting. I suppose he is on very intimate terms with you?'

'Oh, yes.'

'Then his want of courtesy was the more evidently intended for me. In point of fact he disapproves of me. Is not that it?' To this question Montague did not feel himself called upon to make any immediate answer. 'I can well understand that it should be so. An intimate friend may like or dislike the friend of his friend, without offence. But unless there be strong reason he is bound to be civil to his friend's friend, when accident brings them together. You have told me that Mr Carbury was your beau ideal of an English gentleman.'