“Seeing that it was your first day at home,” he went on, putting down my silence to sulkiness, “you might at least have been content to be out all the afternoon. Now that we are on the subject, I had better let you know that Mrs. Carroll asked me to allow you to spend part of your holidays at Derryaghy, but I told her you must decide that for yourself.” He paused, with the intention of letting me say I didn’t want to go. “She told me to-night,” I murmured. “Well?” “I think I’d like to go.” There was a silence, and I wondered how long we were going to sit shivering here. “I had a letter to-night from your Aunt Margaret. She says you have made friends with some people called Gill, and have been to a party at their house.” “Yes: it was last night.” “Why do you never tell me of any of these things yourself? One would think I was a total stranger to you!” “I didn’t know it would interest you.” All at once I remembered my visits to the opera, and I couldn’t understand how my father had not heard of them. He had not mentioned my laxity in regard to church either, and both these omissions puzzled me greatly, seeing Aunt Margaret had made such a fuss about them at the time. CHAPTER XXXI After breakfast I screwed up my courage to the point of broaching the subject I had most on my mind. “There is something I want to say to you,” I began, and my father instantly adopted an attitude of motionless attention, so excessively attentive that it had the effect of putting me out, and I forgot the phrases I had prepared beforehand, and could only stammer awkwardly that it was my desire to leave the McAllisters and choose some lodging for myself. A return to this question I saw was not pleasing to him, and I had hardly expected it to be so. “You are very self-willed,” he said, slowly. I knew from the tone in which this opinion was uttered that he had already made up his mind about my request, yet some obscure instinct of self-preservation still kept me from giving in. I don’t suppose I could have satisfactorily explained that instinct to my father, even had I become perfectly confidential, and certainly no such thought ever crossed my mind. The result was that he looked upon my wish as a mere caprice. “It seems to me we have already fully discussed the question,” he remarked unsympathetically. “I didn’t know then.... I mean I don’t like sleeping with George.” “Why? You have your own bed, haven’t you?” “Yes.” “George is your cousin.” “I know he is my cousin,” I answered wearily. “What difference does that make?” Already I felt the whole thing was hopeless. “It is just this sort of nonsense which makes me object to your going to stay at Derryaghy,” my father began impatiently. “You are pampered with every luxury there, till you begin to dislike and look down upon everybody who hasn’t had your advantages.” “I’m not thinking of advantages,” I muttered, with a sort of irony.