Gaunt laid down his knife and fork to contemplate her. "In some ways," he said slowly, "it appears that you do _not_ resemble your mother." "Who? I? Oh, no, I am not a bit like mother, except in looks," calmly replied Virgie. "Did you suppose I was? She is social and I am domestic. She likes going out, and I like home. I am shy with strangers, and she never is." After a minute's thought, she added: "You see, ever since I grew up, I have known the seamy side of things--trouble, losing father, and poverty. I suppose it has made me dull." The man glowered upon her fixedly as she sat, with an empty plate, sipping her cup of tea. "You're not eating," he threw out, at length. "I have not much appetite this morning," was her gentle reply. "Eat!" he shouted, springing from his place and noting with satisfaction her involuntary recoil. "Come, what's it to be? Kidney and mushroom, eggs, ham--what?" She grew pink with distress. "Please, no," she pleaded. "I--I can't manage it. I--I simply can't swallow." "Nonsense!" he declared loudly. "No airs and graces here, please. What will you have?" He held his fork poised above the dishes. There was an electric silence, and he thought she was going to rebel openly. But, after a brief struggle, she commanded herself. "An egg, please." He rose, brought her the egg and the toast rack. She thanked him carefully, and he seemed to retire behind his paper. But, after some silence, he abruptly flung it down. "If you don't eat what you have there, I'll come and stand over you," he threatened. He was obeyed then, though with a most evident effort. "As soon as you have had your interview with Mrs. Wells," said he, when she had finished, "I want to take you round the farms. Be ready in the hall at ten-thirty sharp." She rose. "Perhaps you will either show me the way to the kitchens, or ring for one of the servants?" said she rather stiffly. "Hoity toity!" cried her husband, stopping short to gaze upon her. "We stand upon our dignity, don't we? Come along. I'll show you." She followed him down the tiled passage, to the comfortable, though not very extensive kitchen premises. Omberleigh was not a large house, though the reception rooms were spacious and dignified. "Now, Mrs. Wells," he announced, "here's your new tyrant. She fancies herself on her housekeeping, so I expect there will be wigs on the green before very long. But remember, if you quarrel you part; I am not going to have any wranglings in my peaceful bachelor abode." Mrs. Wells evidently looked upon this speech as a particularly choice specimen of humour. "Well, there now! I never!" was her good-humoured comment. "If I can't make friends with this young lady, sir, I think I shall deserve to be turned out, if I have served you for a goodish while. He thinks to tease you and me, ma'am, don't he?"