There followed a terrific silence, during which it seemed to Frances that the wills of the man and the girl were in visible conflict though neither stirred or spoke. In the end there came a faint gasp from Nell, and she turned to obey. Lucy started up with hysterical crying. “I’m going too, then—I’m going too!” “You will stay where you are,” Arthur said, without turning his gaze from the younger sister. She dropped back sobbing in the chair, and Nell went wordlessly to the door. Slowly she opened it, slowly passed out and closed it again. Mrs. Dermot looked up at her son. “Elsie may take up her supper,” she said. He shrugged his shoulders. “She can do as she likes.” He moved to his own place and sat down. His look came to Frances. “Sorry to treat you to this exhibition,” he said. “But discipline must be maintained.” She met his look with the utmost directness. “Did you say discipline or tyranny?” she said. She expected anger, was prepared for it, even desired it. But he only smiled. “Yes, you may call it that,” he said. “But it’s in a good cause. Nell is getting above herself. She has got to learn. Lucy, sit up and behave yourself! You’ve nothing whatever to cry about. Good heavens, child! Why all this fuss?” Lucy sobbed some inarticulate words into her handkerchief, and abruptly Frances leaned forward. She spoke in a low tone, very urgently, to Arthur. “Let her run after Nell and fetch her back!” she said. She could not have said exactly what prompted the request. It was not primarily pity for either of the two girls. It was the man himself who held her attention at that moment, and an overwhelming desire to move that iron will out of its undeviating course. But his reception of her interference was disconcerting. Instead of displaying the opposition she had anticipated, he spoke again to the still sobbing girl. “Dry your eyes, you silly girl, and go tell Nell to come back!” Lucy looked up with a gasp of sheer amazement, and Frances found herself gasping too at the utter unexpectedness of his action. Arthur’s face wore a cynical expression, but he showed no sign of impatience. “Go on!” he said. “Go and fetch her back and be quick about it!” Lucy got up and slipped from the room. “Miss Thorold, may I give you some ham?” said Arthur. Their eyes met, and she caught a quizzical gleam in his that sent an odd feeling as of tension relaxed through her. “Thank you,” she said. He proceeded to carve the ham in silence, and as he did so there came the sound of wheels and a horse’s feet outside. “Here they are!” said Mrs. Dermot in a tone of relief. “I knew they wouldn’t be long,” said Elsie. Arthur’s face took an inscrutable look. He said nothing whatever.