 he chose some week-day. On
Sunday he always spent a longer or shorter time with the Walthams, frequently
having dinner at their house. He hesitated at first to invite the ladies to the
Manor; in his uncertainty on social usages he feared lest there might be
impropriety in a bachelor giving such an invitation. He appealed to Alfred, who
naturally laughed the scruple to scorn, and accordingly Mrs. and Miss Waltham
were begged to honour Mr. Mutimer with their company. Mrs. Waltham reflected a
little, but accepted. Adela would much rather have remained at home, but she had
no choice.
    By the end of September this invitation had been repeated, and the Walthams
had lunched a second time at the Manor, no other guests being present. On the
afternoon of the following day Mrs. Waltham and her daughter were talking
together in their sitting-room, and the former led the conversation, as of late
she almost invariably did when alone with her daughter, to their revolutionary
friend.
    »I can't help thinking, Adela, that in all essentials I never knew a more
gentlemanly man than Mr. Mutimer. There must be something superior in his
family; no doubt we were altogether mistaken in speaking of him as a mechanic.«
    »But he has told us himself that he was a mechanic,« replied Adela, in the
impatient way in which she was wont to speak on this subject.
    »Oh, that is his modesty. And not only modesty; his views lead him to pride
himself on a poor origin. He was an engineer, and we know that engineers are in
reality professional men. Remember old Mr. Mutimer; he was a perfect gentleman.
I have no doubt the family is really a very good one. Indeed, I am all but sure
that I remember the name in Hampshire; there was a Sir something Mutimer - I'm
convinced of it. No one really belonging to the working class ever bore himself
as Mr. Mutimer does. Haven't you noticed the shape of his hands, my dear?«
    »I've only noticed that they are very large, and just what you would expect
in a man who had done much rough work.«
    Mrs. Waltham laughed noisily.
    »My dear child, how can you be so perverse? The shape of the fingers is
perfect. Do pray notice them next time.«
    »I really cannot promise, mother, to give special attention to Mr. Mutimer's
hands.«
    Mrs. Waltham glanced at the girl, who had laid down a book
