"What an extraordinary thing," said Maurice. "I'll ring the bell. Great
Scott! I never posted the letter telling them about breakfast."

"What would you do with him?" said Madge.

"Never mind. It's absurd to keep us waiting like this. We can surely get
breakfast." He pealed the bell loudly as he spoke.

"Can't you get in, sir?" asked one of the drivers.

"And it's coming on to rain," said Jenny.

Maurice pealed the bell louder than ever; and finally a sad-eyed porter
in shirt-sleeves opened the door and surveyed the party over a broom.

"We want breakfast," said Maurice; "breakfast for eight."

"Breakfast always is at eight," the man informed them.

"Breakfast for eight people and as quickly as possible."

The man looked doubtful.

"Good heavens!" Maurice cried irritably. "Surely in any decent hotel you
can get breakfast for eight."

"What are you?" the man asked. "Theatricals?"

"No, no, no, we've been to a fancy dress ball--and we want breakfast."

In the end they were admitted, and, a chamber-maid having been
discovered on a remote landing, the girls were shown into a bedroom.

"I thought this hotel professed to cater for excursions of pleasure,"
said Maurice frigidly.

"We don't get many of 'em here in winter."

"I'm not surprised. Good Lord, isn't the fire lighted in the
coffee-room?"

"We don't use the coffee-room much--except for political meetings.
Greenwich has gone out from what it used to be."

The girls came in, pale and tired, and the party foregathered round the
coffee-room grate, from which a wisp of smoke ascended in steady
promise.

"Well, Maurice," said Castleton, "I think very little of this ravished
conservatory into which your historic sense has led us. How do you like
Greenwich, girls?"

The girls all sighed.

"They don't."

"Hullo, here's a waiter," said Cunningham, turning round. "Good morning,
waiter."

"Good morning, sir."

"Is breakfast going to be long?"

"It's on order sir. Eggs and bacon, I think you said."

"I should think somebody probably did. In fact, I'd almost bet on it,"
said Castleton. "What's the time, waiter?"

"I don't know, sir, but I'll find out for you."

"I always thought Greenwich was famous for its time."

"Whitebait, sir, more than anything."

Castleton sighed; and Maurice, who had gone downstairs to reassure the
household, came back trying to look as if waiting for breakfast on a
January morning after dancing all night was one of the