When he returned to the inn he found that his party was in the _salle_ awaiting him. The usual massive white coffee-cups, heap of rolls, all crust outside and bubbles within, wafers of butter, and artificial honey were on table.
A German lady was prowling about the room with her head so tumbled that it was hard to believe she had dressed her hair since leaving her bed, and the curate was there also, ambling round his bride and squeaking forth entreaties that she would allow him to order her eggs for breakfast. Philip was heartily glad that he sat along with his party at one table, in the alcove. Miss Durham was not there.
On inquiry Salome learned that she had ordered breakfast to be taken to her room.
’My dear, surely you made friends yesterday evening after I left you.’
’Come—to table,’ said Philip; and then—’on the contrary, I don’t know quite how it came about, but something I said gave her umbrage, and she flew away in a rage. I suppose I offended her. It does not matter. Pass me the butter.’
’Given Miss Durham offence!’ exclaimed Mrs. Sidebottom. ’But—she is worth thousands. How could you be so indiscreet?’
’_Mais, quelle gaucherie!_’ whispered the penultimate Labarte to the youngest sister.
Then ensued a silence. Philip looked from one to another. Already a cloud had come into his clear sky.
Philip said sternly, ’Pass me the butter.’
Those who seemed least concerned were the captain and Janet, who sat together and were engrossed in little jokes that passed between them, and were not heard or regarded by the rest of the company.
’This is very unfortunate,’ said Mrs. Sidebottom, ’for we had made a plan to go to the hospice together, and she would have paid her share of the carriage.’
Salome looked into her plate; her colour came and went. She slid her hand into that of her husband, and whispered, ’I did not mean to reproach you. I am sure you were right.’
’I was right,’ answered Philip; ’something she said appeared to me a reflection on you and I fired up. I am your husband, and am bound to do so.’
’I am quite sure, then, you misunderstood her,’ said Salome; ’dear Miss Durham could not—no, I do not mean that—would not say a word against me. Of course I know I have plenty of faults, and she cannot have failed to observe them; but she would not dream of alluding to them, least of all to you.’