ragged reciter whose burlesque extravagance of
gesture showed that one was now in a country more tolerant of nonsense
than the North.

She wanted to sit there quietly, savouring the scene. But Mrs. Yaverland
said in her terse voice: "I've taken rooms at the Hapsburg for to-night.
I thought you'd like it. I do myself, because it's near the river. You
know, we're near the river at Roothing." Ellen could not longer turn her
attention to the spectacle for wondering why Mrs. Yaverland should
speak of the Thames as if it were an interesting and important relative.
It could not possibly be that Mrs. Yaverland felt about the river as she
felt about the Pentlands, for elderly people did not feel things like
that. They liked a day's outing, but they always sat against the
breakwater with the newspaper and the sandwich-basket while one went
exploring; at least, mother always did. Trying to insert some sense into
the conversation, she asked politely, "Do you do much boating?" and was
again baffled by the mutter, "No, it's too far away." Well, if it was
too far away it could not be near. She was tired by the long day's
travel.

But the hotel, when they alighted, pleased her. The vast entrance hall,
with its prodigality of tender rosy light, the people belonging to the
very best families who sat about in monstrously large armchairs set at
vast intervals on the lawny carpets, were not in the least embarrassed
by the publicity of their position and shone physically with well-being
and the expectation of pleasure; the grandiose marble corridors, the
splendid version of a lift, and the number of storeys that flashed past
them, all very much the same, but justifying their monotony by their
stateliness, like modern blank verse, made her remember solemnly her
inner conviction that she would some day find herself amid surroundings
of luxury.

The necessity of looking as if she were used to and even wearied by this
sort of thing weighed heavily on her, for she felt that it was almost
dishonour not to express the solemn joy this magnificence was giving
her. So she stood in the fine room to which Mrs. Yaverland took her, and
after having resolved that the minute she was left alone she would touch
the magnificent crimson velvet roses that stood out in high relief all
over the wallpaper, she felt that she could not graciously withhold
praise from this which was to be her own special share of the splendour.
She moved shyly towards Mrs. Yaverlan