I can imagine that to any gentleman her society must have been extremely agreeable.
My father's lonely breakfasts had often been a cause of great distress to him.

He was essentially so gay and cheery; he loved the sound of voices and laughter; he liked to be amused; to discuss the plans for the day; to comment upon the letters received.

To breakfast alone, or sit alone, was for him a torture; he sighed always when the breakfast bell rang, and we knew that it was a torture in its way.

When my mother found it out she insisted upon my joining him every morning.

I was but a child, and could not interest him very much.
Now the matter was quite different.