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Now that was why I took Ellis with me. I hate travelling about alone, especially when my husband’s away. And it was particularly on account of the girl that I stole the blue suit. But I didn’t tell Ellis a word about the girl, and I only just mentioned the father and mother–and not even that until we were safely in the train. These young dandies are really very nervous and timid at bottom, you know, in spite of their airs. Ellis would walk ten miles sooner than have to meet a stranger of the older generation. And he’s just as shy about girls too. I believe most men are, if you ask me.

The great encounter occurred in the hall, just before dinner. They were late, and so were we. I tell you, we were completely outshone. I tell you, we were not in it, not anywhere near being in it! For one thing, they were in evening-dress. Now at Hawthornden’s you never dress for dinner. There isn’t a place in Llandudno where it’s the exception not to dress for dinner. They seemed rather surprised; not put out, not ashamed of themselves for being too swagger, but just mildly disappointed with Hawthornden’s. The fact is, they didn’t think much of Hawthornden’s. I learnt all manner of things during dinner. They’d been in Scotland when I corresponded with them, but before that they’d stayed at the Ritz in London, and at the Hotel St Regis in New York, and the something else–I forget the name–at Chicago. I was expecting to meet “Colonials,” but it was Ellis and I who were “colonial.” I could have borne it better if they hadn’t been so polite, and so anxious to hide their opinion of Hawthornden’s. The girl–oh! the girl…. Her name is Nellie. Really very pretty. Only about eighteen, but as self-possessed as twenty-eight. Evidently she had always been used to treating her parents as equals; she talked quite half the time, and contradicted her mother as flatly as Ellis contradicts me. Mr Smith didn’t talk much. And Ellis didn’t at first–he was too timid and awkward–really not at all like himself. However, Miss Nellie soon made him talk, and they got quite friendly and curt with each other. Curious thing–Ellis never notices women’s clothes; very interested in his own, and in other men’s, but not in women’s! So I expect Nellie’s didn’t make much impression on him. But truly they were stylish. Much too gorgeous for a young girl–oh! you’ve no idea!–but not vulgar. They’d been bought in London, in Dover Street. Better than mine, and better than her mother’s. I will say this for her–she wore them without any self-consciousness, though she came in for a good deal of staring. Heaven knows what they cost! I’d be afraid to guess. But then you see the Smiths had come to England to spend money, and–well–they were spending it. All their ideas were larger than ours.

When dinner was over Nellie wanted to know what we could do to amuse ourselves. Well, it was a showery night, and of course there was nothing. Then Ellis said, in his patronizing way:

“Suppose we go and knock the balls about a bit?”

And Nellie said, “Knock the balls about a bit?”

“Yes,” said Master Ellis, “billiards–you know.”

All four of us went to the billiard-room. And Ellis began to knock the balls about a bit. His father installed a billiard-table in his own house a few years ago. The idea was to “keep the boy at home.” It didn’t, of course, not a bit. Ellis is a pretty good player, but he did nearly all his practising at his club. I’ve often heard his mother regret the eighty pounds odd that that billiard-table cost…. I play a bit, you know. Nellie Smith would not try at first, and Papa Smith was smoking a cigar and he said he couldn’t do justice to a cigar and a cue at the same time. So Ellis and I had a twenty-five up. He gave me ten and I beat him–probably because he would keep on smoking cigarettes, just to show Papa Smith how well he could keep the smoke out of his eyes. Then he asked Nellie if she’d “try.” She said she would if her pa would. And she and her pa put themselves against Ellis and me.