Barbara had been working herself into this state during the whole evening.

The affection of Isabel for her husband, her voice, his caresses--seen through the half open doors--had maddened her.

She felt it impossible to restrain her excitement.
Mr.Carlyle walked on, utterly unconscious that a storm was brewing.
More than that, he was unconscious of having given cause for one, and dashed into an indifferent, common place topic in the most provoking manner.
"When does the justice begin haymaking, Barbara ?" There was no reply.

Barbara was swelling and panting, and trying to keep her emotion down.

Mr.Carlyle tried again,-- "Barbara, I asked you which day your papa cut his hay." Still no reply.