Susie did not go down to breakfast, but stayed in her bedroom on the sofa drinking a glass of milk into which an egg had been beaten, and listening to Hilton's criticisms of the German nation, delivered with much venom while she packed. But Hilton, though her contempt for German ways was so great as to be almost unutterable, was reconciled to a mistress who had so quickly given in to her wish to be taken back to Hill Street, and the venom was of an abstract nature, containing no personal sting of unfavourable comparisons with duchesses; so that Susie was sipping her milk in a fairly placid frame of mind when there was a knock at the door, and Anna asked if she might come in.
"Oh, yes, come in. Have you looked out the trains?"
"Yes. There's only one decent one, and you'll have to leave directly after luncheon. Won't you stay, Susie? You'll be so tired, going home without resting."
"Can't we leave before luncheon?"
"Yes, of course, if you prefer to lunch at Stralsund."
"Much. Have you ordered the shandrydan?"
"Yes, for half-past one."
"Then order it for half-past twelve. Hilton can drive with me."
"So I thought."
"Has that wretch been rubbing fish oil on it again?"