All the previous evening Charles had hardly spoken to her, and had talked mainly to Lady Hope-Acton, who was somewhat depressed, and another elder lady.

A good-night and a flat candlestick can be presented in a very distant manner, and as Ruth received hers from Charles that evening, and met the grave, steady glance that was directed at her, she perceived that he had not forgiven her for what she had said.
She felt angry again at the idea that he should venture to treat her with a coldness which seemed to imply that she had been in the wrong.
The worst of it was that she felt she was to blame; that she had no right whatever to criticise Charles and his actions.

What concern were they of hers?
How much more suitable, how much more eloquent a dignified silence would have been.

She could not imagine now, as she thought it over, why she had been so unreasonably annoyed at the moment as to say what she had done.

Yet the reason was not far to seek, if she had only known where to lay her hand on it.