What was Charley saying to her in that whispered voice, as they passed each other?
Why did they linger near each other?
Why did Sylvia look so dreamily happy, so startled at every call of the game, as if recalled from some pleasant idea?
Why did Kinraid's eyes always seek her while hers were averted, or downcast, and her cheeks all aflame?
Philip's dark brow grew darker as he gazed.

He, too, started when Mrs.Corney, close at his elbow, bade him go in to supper along with some of the elder ones, who were not playing; for the parlour was not large enough to hold all at once, even with the squeezing and cramming, and sitting together on chairs, which was not at all out of etiquette at Monkshaven.

Philip was too reserved to express his disappointment and annoyance at being thus arrested in his painful watch over Sylvia; but he had no appetite for the good things set before him, and found it hard work to smile a sickly smile when called upon by Josiah Pratt for applause at some country joke.

When supper was ended, there was some little discussion between Mrs.Corney and her son-in-law as to whether the different individuals of the company should be called upon for songs or stories, as was the wont at such convivial meetings.

Brunton had been helping his mother-in-law in urging people to eat, heaping their plates over their shoulders with unexpected good things, filling the glasses at the upper end of the table, and the mugs which supplied the deficiency of glasses at the lower.