Mrs. Hurtle got up to receive him with her sweetest smile,--and her smile could be very sweet. She was a witch of a woman, and, as like most witches she could be terrible, so like most witches she could charm. "Only fancy," she said, "that you should have come the only day I have been two hundred yards from the house, except that evening when you took me to the play. I was so sorry."
"Why should you be sorry? It is easy to come again."
"Because I don't like to miss you, even for a day. But I wasn't well, and I fancied that the house was stuffy, and Mrs. Pipkin took a bright idea and proposed to carry me off to Southend. She was dying to go herself. She declared that Southend was Paradise."

Mrs. Hurtle received him with her sweetest smile - and her smile could be very sweet. Like most witches she could be terrible, and like most witches she could charm.
"Only fancy," she said, "that you should have come the only day I have been away from the house. I was so sorry. But I wasn't well, and I fancied that the house was stuffy, and Mrs. Pipkin proposed to carry me off to Southend. She declared that Southend was Paradise."
