ter twenties, her plain dress harmonising with a subdued charm of
feature and a timidity of manner not ungraceful. Whilst waiting for their
meal they conversed in an undertone; their brief remarks and ejaculations
told of a long morning's ramble from the seaside resort some miles away; in
their quiet fashion they seemed to have enjoyed themselves, and dinner at
an inn evidently struck them as something of an escapade. Rather awkwardly
the girl arranged a handful of wild flowers which she had gathered, and put
them for refreshment into a tumbler of water; when a woman entered with
viands, silence fell upon the two; after hesitations and mutual glances,
they began to eat with nervous appetite.

Scarcely was their modest confidence restored, when in the doorway sounded
a virile voice, gaily humming, and they became aware of a tall young man,
red-headed, anything but handsome, flushed and perspiring from the sunny
road; his open jacket showed a blue cotton shirt without waistcoat, in his
hand was a shabby straw hat, and thick dust covered his boots. One would
have judged him a tourist of the noisier class, and his rather loud 'Good
morning!' as he entered the room seemed a serious menace to privacy; on the
other hand, the rapid buttoning of his coat, and the quiet choice of a seat
as far as possible from the two guests whom his arrival disturbed,
indicated a certain tact. His greeting had met with the merest murmur of
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 no