h-eastern coast, in particular, when the weather has, as the phrase
goes, 'broken up,' and the sky and sea have both become one durable
drab, the best of women grow irritable, the men morose. At the _table
d'hote_, which even the most exclusive are driven to frequent for
company, as sheep huddle together in storm, Dislike ripens to Hate with
frightful rapidity. Our neighbour, who always--for it seems
always--gets the last of the mushrooms at breakfast, or finishes the
oyster sauce at dinner before our very eyes, we are very far, indeed,
from loving as ourselves. Our _vis-a-vis_, the man on his honeymoon, is
even still more offensive. We resent his happiness, which is apparently
uninfluenced by the state of the weather, and our wife wonders what he
could have seen in that chit of a girl to attract his attention. To
ourselves she seems a great deal too good for him, and in our rare
intervals of human feeling we regard her with the tenderest
commiseration. The importance attached to meals, and the time we take
over them, have no parallel save among the Esquimaux. The least
incident that happens in the hotel is of more moment to us than the
overthrow of Empires. The whispered news that a fellow guest has been
taken seriously ill, and that a medical consultation has been held upon
the case, is a matter to be deplored, of course, but one which is not
without its consolations. 'Who is it? What is it? Nothing catching I do
hope?' (this last uttered with genuine anxiety) are questions that are
heard on every side. The general impression is that some lovely young
lady of fashion on the drawing-room floor has been seized with pains in
her limbs--and no wonder--from exposure to the elements. Her mother
comes down every morning and selects dainties for the sick-room from
the public breakfast table; those who are near enough to do so inquire
in dulcet tones, 'How is your invalid this morning?' The reply is,
'Better, much better,' which somehow falls short of expectation. Even
the most giddy and frivolous of girls has no excuse for frightening
people for nothing.

At luncheon one day a very fat, strong boy makes his appearance, and is
supplied with soup. All his neighbours who have no soup are wild with
envy, though they are well acquainted with that soup at dinner, and
know that it is bad. 'What is the meaning of it? Why this favouritism?'
we inquire of the waiter furiously. 'Well, you see, sir, he is better
now; but that is the inva