In spite of Ned's resolutions that he would do nothing to mar the tranquillity of the last few weeks of his being at home, he had difficulty in restraining his temper the following day at tea.

Never had he seen his stepfather in so bad a humor.

Had he known that things had gone wrong at the mill that day, that the new machine had broken one of its working parts and had brought everything to a standstill till it could be repaired, he would have been able to make allowances for Mr.
Mulready's ill humor.
Not knowing this he grew pale with the efforts which he made to restrain himself as his stepfather snarled at his wife, snapped at Lucy and Charlie, and grumbled and growled at everything throughout the meal.
Everything that was said was wrong, and at last, having silenced his wife and her children, the meal was completed in gloomy silence.
The two boys went into the little room off the hall which they used of an evening to prepare their lessons for next day.

Charlie, who came in last, did not abut the door behind him.
"That is a nice man, our stepfather," Ned said in a cold fury.

"His ways get more and more pleasant every day; such an amiable, popular man, so smiling and pleasant!" "Oh! it's no use saying anything," Charlie said in an imploring voice, "it only makes things worse." "Worse!" Ned exclaimed indignantly; "how could they be worse?
Well may they call him Foxey, for foxey he is, a double faced snarling brute." As the last word issued from Ned's lips he reeled under a tremendous box on the ear from behind.