He had no idea who Miles really was, but he had remarked the gunner tie, and, asking to what part of the Royal Regiment Miles belonged, de
cided that no mere pauper could be a Horse-Gunner.
He regarded his daughter with new eyes.
She was undoubtedly attractive. He discovered certain resemblances to himself that he had never noticed before.
Then he informed her that he had promised they would both lunch with her agreeable friend at the Queen's Hotel: "He made such a point of it," said Major Morton, "I could hardly refuse; begged us to take pity on his loneliness, and so on—and I'm feeling rather better to-day."
Meg decided that the tide of fate was too strong for her, she must just drift with it.
It was a most pleasant lunch, save for one incident. Lady Penelope Pottinger and her husband, accompanied by Lottie Trent and a man, were lunching at another table.
Lady Penelope's party came in late. Miles and his guests had already arrived at coffee when they appeared.
They had to pass Miles' table, and Lady Penelope stopped; so did her husband. She shook hands with Meg. Miss Trent passed by with her nose in the air.
Miles presented his relations to the Major and they passed on.