"Sleep, of course, was impossible.

Poor Robert!" Mrs.Pendleton waited impatiently for him to disclose the real reason of an appearance which had more behind it, she felt sure, than to express condolences about their common bereavement.

Of Robert she had always stood a little in awe, but she understood her younger brother better.

As a boy she had seen through him and his pretensions, and he did not seem to her much changed since those days.
"I have been upset by our difference last night, Constance," he pursued.
"It seems deplorable for us to have quarrelled--yes, actually quarrelled--over our poor brother's death." His sister's face hardened instantly.

"That wasn't my fault," she said distantly.
"You'll excuse me for saying that I think it was.