Sir Simon's mind was too agreeably filled to afford leisure for detecting feelings not on the surface: everything was new to him, everything delightful. The free and easy life in the French town; the unceremonious habits; the sociable salon, where they sat with the windows open to the street; the passing intimacy made with the rest of the guests; the sufficiently-well-appointed meals in the dining-room—the lingering breakfast at will, the chance lunch, the elaborate dinner—were what he had never before met with. Mr. Bertie Loftus considered it a state of things altogether common; but it was after the social, simple-minded man's own heart. There was the pier to walk on; with its commodious seats at the end, whence he could watch the vessels in at will, and revel in the view of the dancing waves; there was the laid-out ground before that gay building whose French name Sir Simon could not pronounce, the établissement, where he could sit in the sun or the shade, watching the croquet players, and reading his newspaper between whiles; there was the terrace beyond, with its benches; there were the sands stretching out in the distance. An upper terrace also, close at hand, where he could place himself at a small round table and call for lemonade in the summer's heat. Sir Simon would be now in one spot, now in another, his _Times_ and telescope in his hand, his friend Gall not far off. And Mr. Gall was a sensible, shrewd man, looked up to in the city as the head of a wealthy wholesale business; he was not despised by his own people, however he might be by Bertie Loftus. What with the attractions out of doors and the attractions in, Sir Simon thought Boulogne was pleasant as a fabled town of enchantment. "A scandal-loving, vulgar, crowded, disreputable, unsavoury place, sir!" was the judgment some new acquaintance passed upon it one day, to the intense approval of Bertie. But Sir Simon shook his head, and could not see it. Sir Simon stood at the end of the pier one afternoon, his telescope to his eye, ranging the horizon for the first appearance of the London boat. He was looking in the wrong direction for it, but that was all one to happy Sir Simon. Young Paradyne put him right. By that boat he was expecting Mr. and Mrs. Loftus. Some business having taken them unexpectedly to London, Sir Simon had written to say, "Come over here and be my guests." It suddenly struck him that the sight of the boy by his side, Paradyne, might call up unpleasant recollections to Mr. Loftus. Sir Simon had got to like the boy excessively; but that was no reason why Mr. Loftus should tolerate the intimacy.