Even Mrs. Abercarne, at the other end of the table, could see that something had gone wrong: Mr. Bradfield’s voice as he loudly assented, had not the right ring: Mr. Graham-Shute looked mischievous, his wife looked anxious, while Chris looked as if she had been frightened. The housekeeper gave the signal hastily to Mrs. Graham-Shute, even in the midst of the laughter and cracker-pulling which was going on among the young people. Lilith and Rose were surprised, but both Mrs. Graham-Shute and Chris jumped up in a hurry, quite eager to leave the scene of what looked like the beginning of a serious quarrel. For, although no angry words had passed between the gentlemen, Marrable’s effusive geniality in face of his host’s ever-increasing abruptness, looked ominous to those who knew the temper of the latter. When the ladies were assembled in the drawing-room, and Chris had sat down to the piano to play some carols, Mrs. Graham-Shute, for want of a better, was forced to make a confidante of the obnoxious lady-housekeeper. “Exceedingly unpleasant, was it not, to have to endure the presence of that extraordinary individual at dinner,” she said to Mrs. Abercarne in a confidential tone. “Of course, it is very good of my cousin to remember his old friends, but it’s a pity he cannot find some who would make themselves more agreeable to the rest of us. Such a pleasant party we should have been, too, if it hadn’t been for that!” Now Mrs. Abercarne had been smarting for the past week under the snubs and slights which Mrs. Graham-Shute had administered to her daughter and herself, and she was by no means mollified by the Bayswater lady’s momentary condescension. She pricked up her ears, figuratively speaking, rejoicing in her opportunity. “Yes,” she answered, frigidly, drawing herself up and surveying Mrs. Graham-Shute in a manner full of stately vindictiveness. “I quite agree with you. Mr. Bradfield is a great deal too good to his old friends; and they do make themselves excessively disagreeable; and the party would be much pleasanter without them.” And poor Mrs. Graham-Shute, try as she would, could not look as if she did not perceive that this speech was a barbed one. She turned away abruptly, and, taking the place at the piano which Chris had just vacated, began hurriedly and very badly, and with vicious thumps upon the keys, a hymn about “peace on earth and goodwill towards men.”