reply; their eyes on their plates, father and daughter resolutely
disregarded him; yet he ventured to speak again.

'They're busy here to-day. Not a seat to be had in the other room.'

It was apologetic in intention, and not rudely spoken. After a moment's
delay the bald, respectable man made a curt response.

'This room is public, I believe.'

The intruder held his peace. But more than once he glanced at the girl, and
after each furtive scrutiny his plain visage manifested some disturbance, a
troubled thoughtfulness. His one look at the mute parent was from beneath
contemptuous eyebrows.

Very soon another guest appeared, a massive agricultural man, who descended
upon a creaking chair and growled a remark about the hot weather. With him
the red-haired pedestrian struck into talk. Their topic was beer.
Uncommonly good, they agreed, the local brew, and each called for a second
pint. What, they asked in concert, would England be without her ale? Shame
on the base traffickers who enfeebled or poisoned this noble liquor! And
how cool it was--ah! The right sort of cellar! He of the red hair hinted at
a third pewter.

These two were still but midway in their stout attack on meat and drink,
when father and daughter, having exchanged a few whispers, rose to depart.
After leaving the room, the girl remembered that she had left her flowers
behind; she durst not return for them, and, knowing her father would
dislike to do so, said nothing about the matter.