Sir Francis Tyrrell heard the sounds, but, for a moment, took no farther notice of them than by raising his eyes, with a meaning look, to the countenance of Driesen, who was sitting at a little distance, in an attitude which he was very fond of, when busy in propounding some of his own speculative opinions, which he knew were likely to sound harsh in the ears of some of the persons present. It was an attitude entirely composed of angles, one knee nearly up to his chin, which was itself long and pointed, one arm thrust behind his back, the other bent into a sharp angle to support his head, and his whole body leaning forward, with his under jaw a little protruding. Charles Tyrrell used to say, when he saw him in this attitude, that he was knotted into a theorem; but, nevertheless, the attitude, which was beyond all doubt studied, was not without its effect upon those who saw it, from its very extravagance. He also heard the carriage, and stopped in the midst of a disquisition which he was addressing to Sir Francis, as to whether the religion of the Greeks and Romans was not more rational than Christianity. Lady Tyrrell was working and hearing as little as possible, and Charles Tyrrell sat by his mother drawing a flower for her embroidery, and from time to time addressing her in a low voice, with a running comment upon Driesen's discourse, which certainly would not have gratified that gentleman to hear. Lady Tyrrell heard the carriage like the rest, and was the first to speak upon the subject. The feeling that it was impossible to avoid the daily strife with her husband had engendered carelessness, but not awe; his tyranny having, like all other tyranny, taught her, to resist. "There is the sound of a carriage," she said, fixing her eyes full upon her husband. "Do you expect any company to-night, Sir Francis." "To-night or to-morrow," replied Sir Francis, "I expect Mrs. and Miss Effingham, Lady Tyrrell." He was about to add something bitter; but as he particularly wished that Lady Tyrrell should not show towards his new guests any distaste for their society, he commanded himself sufficiently to stop short. Nor was it unusual with him, indeed, so to do; for he was one of those who loved the condition better than the reputation of a domestic tyrant, and, when any strangers were present, he contrived, as far as possible, to veil the natural badness of his temper under the garb of formal courtesy towards his wife and son.