The only persons in the hotel with whom they did not “get on” nor “hit it off” were a military party, chiefly named Clutterbuck, and presided over by a Major Clutterbuck and his wife.  They sat at a large table in a corner—­father, mother, several children, a sister-in-law, a sister, a governess—­eight heads in all; and while utterly polite they seemed to draw a ring round themselves.  They grumbled at the hotel; they played bridge (then a newish game); and once, when Denry and the Countess played with them (Denry being an adept card-player) for shilling points, Denry overheard the sister-in-law say that she was sure Captain Deverax wouldn’t play for shilling points.  This was the first rumour of the existence of Captain Deverax; but afterwards Captain Deverax began to be mentioned several times a day.  Captain Deverax was coming to join them, and it seemed that he was a very particular man.  Soon all the rest of the hotel had got its back up against this arriving Captain Deverax.  Then a Clutterbuck cousin came, a smiling, hard, fluffy woman, and pronounced definitely that the Hotel Beau-Site would never do for Captain Deverax.  This cousin aroused Denry’s hostility in a strange way.  She imparted to the Countess (who united all sects) her opinion that Denry and Nellie were on their honeymoon.  At night in a corner of the drawing-room the Countess delicately but bluntly asked Nellie if she had been married long.  “No,” said Nellie.  “A month?” asked the Countess, smiling.  “N-no,” said Nellie.

The next day all the hotel knew.  The vast edifice of make-believe that Denry and Nellie had laboriously erected crumbled at a word, and they stood forth, those two, blushing for the criminals they were.

The hotel was delighted.  There is more rejoicing in a hotel over one honeymoon couple than over fifty families with children.

But the hotel had a shock the same day.  The Clutterbuck cousin had proclaimed that owing to the inadequacy of the bedroom furniture she had been obliged to employ a sofa as a wardrobe.  Then there were more references to Captain Deverax.  And then at dinner it became known—­ Heaven knows how!—­that the entire Clutterbuck party had given notice and was seceding to the Hotel Metropole.  Also they had tried to carry the Countess with them, but had failed.

Now, among the guests of the Hotel Beau-Site there had always been a professed scorn of the rival Hotel Metropole, which was a franc a day dearer, and famous for its new and rich furniture.  The Metropole had an orchestra twice a week, and the English Church services were held in its drawing-room; and it was larger than the Beau-Site.  In spite of these facts the clients of the Beau-Site affected to despise it, saying that the food was inferior and that the guests were snobbish.  It was an article of faith in the Beau-Site that the Beau-Site was the best hotel on the mountain-side, if not in Switzerland.

The insolence of this defection on the part of the Clutterbucks!  How on earth could people have the face to go to a landlord and say to him that they meant to desert him in favour of his rival?