“I don’t know what I mean,” I said; “but that young gentleman has signed a false name in our visitors’ book.”
Harry looked grave for a minute, and he didn’t like the idea any more than I did, and I felt so sorry that there should be anything that might be wrong, because I had taken to the young lady and gentleman so much, and they seemed so very nice.
Presently Harry said, “Perhaps it’s a runaway match.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t think so, because of the luggage and the dressing-bags.”
“Oh, they might have had them all ready,” he said; “if people are going to run away they can have luggage.”
“They are so young,” I said; “it—it can’t be anything worse than that, can it?”
“Oh no,” said Harry, “I’m sure it’s not. Come, cheer up, little woman; don’t let’s get frightened because we’ve had one bad lot in the house! Nice hotel-keepers we shall be if we’re going to be nervous about everybody that puts up at the ‘Stretford Arms!’”
I tried to laugh, but I didn’t feel comfortable, and all that night I kept thinking about it, and in the morning, when I took the breakfast up to the sitting-room, I think they saw by my manner that I suspected something, and they both looked very uncomfortable.
We didn’t talk at all. I only just said “Good morning,” and I put the eggs and bacon on the table and left them.
About ten o’clock they went out for a walk, and I went upstairs to see that the rooms had been properly tidied up by the housemaid.