Poor Amaryllis stood by the half-open door, her hat in her hand, her bosom heaving, her lips apart and pouting, not with indignation but sheer misery; her head drooped, her form seemed to lose its firmness and sink till she stooped; she could not face them as she would have done others, because you see she loved them, and she had done her best that day till too sorely tried. The storm raged on; finally Iden growled "Better get out of sight." Then she went to her bedroom, and sat on the bed; presently she lay down, and sobbed silently on the pillow, after which she fell asleep, quite worn out, dark circles under her eyes. In the silence of the house, the tom-tom and blare of brazen instruments blown at the fair two miles away was audible. CHAPTER XIX. So there was tribulation in three houses. Next morning she scarcely dared come in to breakfast, and opened the door timidly, expecting heavy looks, and to be snapped up if she spoke. Instead of which, on taking her place, Iden carefully cut for her the most delicate slice of ham he could find, and removed the superfluous fat before putting it on her plate. Mrs. Iden had a special jug of cream ready for her--Amaryllis was fond of cream--and enriched the tea with it generously. "And what did you see at the fair?" asked Iden in his kindest voice, lifting up his saucer--from which he always drank--by putting his thumb under it instead of over, so that his thick little finger projected. He always sipped his tea in this way. "You had plenty of fun, didn't you?" said Mrs. Iden, still more kindly. "I--I don't know; I did not see much of the fair," said Amaryllis, at a loss to understand the change of manner. Iden smiled at his wife and nodded; Mrs. Iden picked up a letter from the tea-tray and gave it to her daughter: "Read." Amaryllis read--it was from Grandfather Iden, furiously upbraiding Iden for neglecting his daughter's education; she had no reverence, no manners--an undutiful, vulgar girl; she had better not show her face in his house again till she had been taught to know her position; her conduct was not fit for the kitchen; she had not the slightest idea how to behave herself in the presence of persons of quality. She put it down before she had finished the tirade of abuse; she did not look up, her face was scarlet. Iden laughed. "Horrid old wretch! Served him right!" said Mrs. Iden. "So glad you vexed him, dear!" Amaryllis last night a wretch was this morning a heroine. The grandfather's letter had done this.