n laughter. "Come with me," he said; "you have been so dutiful
lately that I am alarmed for your health." Then we went out of the
garden where I was sitting, and we were suddenly in a street. I saw in a
moment that it was a real street, in the suburb of an English town;
there were electric trams running, and rows of small trees, and an open
space planted with shrubs, with asphalt paths and ugly seats. On the
other side of the road was a row of big villas, tasteless, dreary,
comfortable houses, with meaningless turrets and balconies. I could not
help feeling that it was very dismal that men and women should live in
such places, think them neat and well-appointed, and even grow to love
them. We went into one of these houses; it was early in the morning, and
a little drizzle was falling, which made the whole place seem very
cheerless. In a room with a bow-window looking on the road there were
three persons. An old man was reading a paper in an arm-chair by the
fire, with his back to the light. He looked a nice old man, with his
clear skin and white hair; opposite him was an old lady in another
chair, reading a letter. With his back to the fire stood a man of about
thirty-five, sturdy-looking, but pale, and with an appearance of being
somewhat overworked. He had a good face, but seemed a little
uninteresting, as if he did not feed his mind. The table had been spread
for breakfast, and the meal was finished and partly cleared away. The
room was ugly and the furniture was a little shabby; there was a glazed
bookcase, full of dull-looking books, a sideboard, a table with writing
materials in the window, and some engravings of royal groups and
celebrated men.

The younger man, after a moment, said, "Well, I must be off." He nodded
to his father, and bent down to kiss his mother, saying, "Take care of
yourself--I shall be back in good time for tea." I had a sense that he
was using these phrases in a mechanical way, and that they were
customary with him. Then he went out, planting his feet solidly on the
carpet, and presently the front door shut. I could not understand why we
had come to this very unemphatic party, and examined the whole room
carefully to see what was the object of our visit. A maid came in and
removed the rest of the breakfast things, leaving the cloth still on the
table, and some of the spoons and knives, with the salt-cellars, in
their places. When she had finished and gone out, there was a silence,
only broke