Maude sat before the fire in a large chair; her eyes, her hands, her whole air supremely listless.
"Don't you want tea, Maude ?" suddenly cried her mother, who had cast innumerable glances at her from time to time.
"I have wanted it for hours--as it seems to me." "It's a horrid custom for young men, this sitting long after dinner.

If he gets into it--But you must see to that, and stop it, if ever you reign at Hartledon.

I dare say he's smoking." "If ever I reign at Hartledon--which I am not likely to do--I'll take care not to wait tea for any one, as you have made me wait for it this evening," was Maude's rejoinder, spoken with apathy.
"I'll send a message to him," decided Lady Kirton, ringing rather fiercely.
A servant appeared.
"Tell Lord Hartledon we are waiting tea for him." "His lordship's not in, my lady." "Not in!" "He went out directly after dinner, as soon as he had taken coffee." "Oh," said the countess-dowager.

And she began to make the tea with vehemence--for it did not please her to have it brought in made--and knocked down and broke one of the delicate china cups..