And as soon as she had refreshed herself with tea she announced her intention of going round the house.
Her husband, however, intervened upon this point, assuring her that there would be ample time in the morning, and Mrs.Ingleton yielded it not very gracefully.
She was placed at the head of the table at dinner, but she could not accept the position without comment.
"Poor little Sylvia! We shall have to make up for this, or I shall never be forgiven," with an arch look at the squire which completely missed its mark.
There were no subtleties about Gilbert Ingleton.

He was thoroughly uncomfortable, and his manner proclaimed the fact aloud.

If he were happy with his enchantress away from home, the home atmosphere completely dispelled all enchantment.

Was it the fault of the slim, erect girl with the red-brown eyes who sat so gravely silent on his right hand?
He could not in justice accuse her, and yet the strong sense of her disapproval irritated him.

What right had she, his daughter, to sit in judgment upon him?
Surely he was entitled to act for himself--choose his own course--make his own hell if he wished! It was all quite unanswerable.