And Irene confined her attention strictly to her breakfast, and never looked up, although Mrs. Benson kept prattling away about the young man’s appearance, wondering if his eyes were dark blue or only dark gray, and why he didn’t part his hair exactly in the middle and done with it, and a full, close beard was becoming, and he had a good, frank face anyway, and why didn’t the Stimpsons come down; and, “Oh, there’s the Van Peagrims,” and Mrs. Benson bowed sweetly and repeatedly to somebody across the room.

To an angel, or even to that approach to an angel in this world, a person who has satisfied his appetite, the spectacle of a crowd of people feeding together in a large room must be a little humiliating.  The fact is that no animal appears at its best in this necessary occupation.  But a hotel breakfast-room is not without interest.  The very way in which people enter the room is a revelation of character.  Mr. King, who was put in good humor by falling on his feet, as it were, in such agreeable company, amused himself by studying the guests as they entered.  There was the portly, florid man, who “swelled” in, patronizing the entire room, followed by a meek little wife and three timid children.  There was the broad, dowager woman, preceded by a meek, shrinking little man, whose whole appearance was an apology.  There was a modest young couple who looked exceedingly self-conscious and happy, and another couple, not quite so young, who were not conscious of anybody, the gentleman giving a curt order to the waiter, and falling at once to reading a newspaper, while his wife took a listless attitude, which seemed to have become second nature.  There were two very tall, very graceful, very high-bred girls in semi-mourning, accompanied by a nice lad in tight clothes, a model of propriety and slender physical resources, who perfectly reflected the gracious elevation of his sisters.  There was a preponderance of women, as is apt to be the case in such resorts.  A fact explicable not on the theory that women are more delicate than men, but that American men are too busy to take this sort of relaxation, and that the care of an establishment, with the demands of society and the worry of servants, so draw upon the nervous energy of women that they are glad to escape occasionally to the irresponsibility of hotel life.  Mr. King noticed that many of the women had the unmistakable air of familiarity with this sort of life, both in the dining-room and at the office, and were not nearly so timid as some of the men.  And this was very observable in the case of the girls, who were chaperoning their mothers —­shrinking women who seemed a little confused by the bustle, and a little awed by the machinery of the great caravansary.