“I hardly know how to face you,” he exclaimed, taking my hand. “I am ashamed of myself, ashamed of my daughter, ashamed of my house--of everything! I have heard the whole story from Theresa, and have no words to express my annoyance to think that you should have been made the victim of so flagrant a violation of the commonest rules of politeness and hospitality.” “Before I can answer you,” I said, “pray help me out of the fog in which I am still involved. What _is_ the meaning of all this?” “Breakfast, sor,” cried O’Twist from the door. “Of course you have breakfasted!” exclaimed my uncle. “Not yet.” “Not breakfasted! and how long is it since you left your room?” “Two hours.” “Heaven forgive us!” he groaned; “it is not enough that they should wantonly insult you--they mean to starve you as well! Come!” he cried, catching me by the arm, and hurrying me into the dining-room, “not a word--not a word until you have breakfasted.” His distress was really genuine; and I felt for him. I could not better show my sympathy than by attending to his requests; and so, without a word, fell to the capital repast before me. For his part, he ate little or nothing; all his time was employed in watching me; and had I been wronged in the most atrocious manner, I don’t think his face could have expressed keener remorse. “Pray,” said I, at last, “don’t allow a trifle like this to vex you.” “My boy,” he answered, wiping his forehead with an immense pocket-handkerchief; “I am fifty-five years of age, and this is the very first occasion in my life on which a guest of mine has had reason to complain of the treatment he has received under my roof. Were you a stranger to me, the indignities that have been heaped upon you would be felt by me keenly enough; but you are my brother’s son, and have a particular claim upon our kindness. I consider that no apologies we can make ought to entitle us to your forgiveness.” “You really judge the matter too seriously. If I had less conceit and more penetration, I should have seen at once that Theresa was acting a feigned part. But where is she? I don’t think she has breakfasted.” “She is hiding her face for shame.” “Please beg her not to do so.” “She is the most extraordinary creature on the face of the earth,” he exclaimed. “What do you think was her reason for making such a donkey of herself? She has told me her story--and, as you have finished breakfast, you shall hear it.” He pushed his chair from the table, and began to speak with great energy.