ent to the
sea, were strolling about; and another few, indifferent to fashion,
had come out from the lodging-houses and from the hotel, which had
been described as being small and insignificant,--and making up only a
hundred beds. Roger Carbury, whose house was not many miles distant
from Lowestoft, was fond of the sea-shore, and always came to loiter
there for a while when any cause brought him into the town. Now he was
walking close down upon the marge of the tide,--so that the last little
roll of the rising water should touch his feet,--with his hands joined
behind his back, and his face turned down towards the shore, when he
came upon a couple who were standing with their backs to the land,
looking forth together upon the waves. He was close to them before he
saw them, and before they had seen him. Then he perceived that the man
was his friend Paul Montague. Leaning on Paul's arm a lady stood,
dressed very simply in black, with a dark straw hat on her head;--
very simple in her attire, but yet a woman whom it would be impossible
to pass without notice. The lady of course was Mrs Hurtle.

Paul Montague had been a fool to suggest Lowestoft, but his folly had
been natural. It was not the first place he had named; but when fault
had been found with others, he had fallen back upon the sea sands
which were best known to himself. Lowestoft was just the spot which
Mrs Hurtle required. When she had been shown her room, and taken down
out of the hotel on to the strand, she had declared herself to be
charmed. She acknowledged with many smiles that of course she had had
no right to expect that Mrs Pipkin should understand what sort of
place she needed. But Paul would understand,--and had understood. 'I
think the hotel charming,' she said. 'I don't know what you mean by
your fun about the American hotels, but I think this quite gorgeous,
and the people so civil!' Hotel people always are civil before the
crowds come. Of course it was impossible that Paul should return to
London by the mail train which started about an hour after his
arrival. He would have reached London at four or five in the morning,
and have been very uncomfortable. The following day was Sunday, and of
course he promised to stay till Monday. Of course he had said nothing
in the train of those stern things which he had resolved to say. Of
course he was not saying them when Roger Carbury came upon him; but
was indulging in some poetical nonsense, some probably ve