capital,
to confer with her man-milliner, after which it was probable that they
would go to Italy or to the East for the winter. "I have given her a
choice of Rome or the Nile," said Gordon, "but she tells me she does n't
care a fig where we go."

I say that Bernard prepared to receive his friends, and I mean that he
prepared morally--or even intellectually. Materially speaking, he could
simply hold himself in readiness to engage an apartment at a hotel and
to go to meet them at the station. He expected to hear from Gordon
as soon as this interesting trio should reach England, but the first
notification he received came from a Parisian hotel. It came to him in
the shape of a very short note, in the morning, shortly before lunch,
and was to the effect that his friends had alighted in the Rue de la
Paix the night before.

"We were tired, and I have slept late," said Gordon; "otherwise you
should have heard from me earlier. Come to lunch, if possible. I want
extremely to see you."

Bernard, of course, made a point of going to lunch. In as short a time
as possible he found himself in Gordon's sitting-room at the Hotel
Middlesex. The table was laid for the midday repast, and a gentleman
stood with his back to the door, looking out of the window. As Bernard
came in, this gentleman turned and exhibited the ambrosial beard, the
symmetrical shape, the monocular appendage, of Captain Lovelock.

The Captain screwed his glass into his eye, and greeted Bernard in his
usual fashion--that is, as if he had parted with him overnight.

"Oh, good morning! Beastly morning, is n't it? I suppose you are come to
luncheon--I have come to luncheon. It ought to be on table, you know--it
's nearly two o'clock. But I dare say you have noticed foreigners are
never punctual--it 's only English servants that are punctual. And they
don't understand luncheon, you know--they can't make out our eating at
this sort of hour. You know they always dine so beastly early. Do you
remember the sort of time they used to dine at Baden?--half-past five,
half-past six; some unearthly hour of that kind. That 's the sort of
time you dine in America. I found they 'd invite a man at half-past six.
That 's what I call being in a hurry for your food. You know they always
accuse the Americans of making a rush for their victuals. I am bound
to say that in New York, and that sort of place, the victuals were very
good when you got them. I hope you don't mind my saying a