He has a
view too."
"Ah," said Miss Bartlett, repressing Lucy, who was about to
speak.
"What I mean," he continued, "is that you can have our rooms, and
we'll have yours. We'll change."
The better class of tourist was shocked at this, and sympathized
with the new-comers. Miss Bartlett, in reply, opened her mouth as
little as possible, and said "Thank you very much indeed; that is
out of the question."
"Why?" said the old man, with both fists on the table.
"Because it is quite out of the question, thank you."
"You see, we don't like to take--" began Lucy. Her cousin again
repressed her.
"But why?" he persisted. "Women like looking at a view; men
don't." And he thumped with his fists like a naughty child,
and turned to his son, saying, "George, persuade them!"
"It's so obvious they should have the rooms," said the son.
"There's nothing else to say."
He did not look at the ladies as he spoke, but his voice was
perplexed and sorrowful. Lucy, too, was perplexed; but she saw
that they were in for what is known as "quite a scene," and she
had an odd feeling that whenever these ill-bred tourists spoke
the contest widened and deepened till it dealt, not with rooms
and views, but with--well, with something quite different, whose
existence she had not realized before.
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