The insulting attack upon the front door was made again with even greater violence while we still waited, united, as I believe, in one sympathetic resolve to shield the head of the house from any unnecessary distress. He alone was called upon to make sacrifice; it was our single duty and privilege to encircle and protect him. And if my own feelings were representative, we fairly bristled with resentment when this vulgar demand for admittance was repeated. These domineering, comfortable, respectability-loving Jervaises were the offenders; the sole cause of our present anxiety. We had a bitter grievance against them and they came swaggering and bullying, as if the threat to their silly prestige were the important thing. "You'd better go, dear," Mrs. Banks said with a nod to Anne. The little woman's eyes were bright with the eagerness for battle, but she continued to talk automatically on absurdly immaterial subjects to relieve the strain of even those few seconds of waiting. "Our maid is out, you see, Mr. Melhuish," she explained quickly, and turning to Brenda, continued without a pause, "So Anne has even had to lend you a dress. You're about of a height, but you're so much slighter. Still, with very little alteration, her things would fit you very well. If we should be obliged ..." She broke off abruptly as Anne returned, followed by Mr. Jervaise and the glowering, vindictive figure of his son. Anne's manner of entrance alone would have been sufficient to demonstrate her attitude to the intruders, but she elected to make it still more unmistakable by her announcement of them. "The Jervaises, mother," she said, with a supercilious lift of her head. She might have been saying that the men had called for the rent. Little Mrs. Banks looked every inch an aristocrat as she received them. The gesture of her plump little white hands as she indicated chairs was almost regal in its authority. Old Jervaise, obviously nervous, accepted the invitation, but Frank, after closing the door, stood leaning with his back against it. The position gave him command of the whole room, and at the same time conveyed a general effect of threat. His attitude said, "Now we've got you, and none of you shall leave the room until you've paid in full for your impertinence." I had guessed from his knock that he had finally put his weakness for Anne away from him. He was clever enough to realise just how and why she had fooled him. His single object, now, was revenge. Banks brooded, rather neglected and overlooked in a corner by the window. He appeared to have accepted his doom as assured, and being plunged into the final gulf of despair, he had, now, no heart even to be apologetic. The solid earth of his native country was slipping away from him; nothing else mattered.