Utterly found a hard, uneven bed in an unaired room and spent a wretchedly uncomfortable night filled with foolish dreams of impossible quests. So depressed was he with the last search, which seemed to extend over years and years and lead nowhere, that his first act upon waking was to reach out and take in his hand the thin old magazines which lay in his bag on a chair near by and open to "Bitter Bread."
"It was late afternoon when she reached her destination," he read. "There, instead of the eager face of Arnold, she saw looking from the inn door the cruel face of Corbin; there, instead of Arnold's welcoming voice, she heard the sharp bark of Corbin's unfriendly dog."
Having read the two sentences, which seemed to restore his confidence, Utterly rose, dressed himself in white flannel, and went down to the dining-room.
Breakfast was, as was to be expected, poor. But among the mildly excited persons with whom the room was filled, Utterly was at first the only one who complained. Mothers and fathers were nervous with fear that John and Harry might not do well; sisters watched, bright-eyed, for brothers and the friends of brothers. Mr. Illington stopped at Utterly's end of one of the long, untidy tables to bid him good-morning. He called him now by his name, having consulted the hotel register, and offered in friendly fashion to introduce him to "the girls."
There was, Utterly said to himself, but one person with a mind in the room. The person whom he thus distinguished was Dr. Green, who came late and brought with him the strong odor of drugs which betrayed his profession. He moved his chair as though he would have liked to relieve a black mood by tossing it above his head, and perhaps by slamming it down upon the floor. His quick motions and his bright eyes indicated an abundance of physical and mental energy, neither of which had, perhaps, full exercise. Having waited long for a late-appearing housekeeper, he had at last sped down the street to the hotel. Now he ordered breakfast sharply and impatiently.
Old Jerry, waiter as well as man-of-all-work, obeyed him spryly with many a chuckled "Yes, doctor; yes, mars'r," which indicated that the doctor was a less formidable person than he seemed.