"You caused me considerable anxiety," he said. Prudence expressed her contrition. Steele added his apologies, although in his heart he felt there was nothing in the adventure to apologise for. "I am afraid the fault was mine," he said. "The suggestion originated with me. I was thoughtless enough to overlook the fact that you might be worried." "The thoughtlessness was on my daughter's side," Mr Graynor answered. "She is fully aware that her absence from luncheon would cause anxiety. She should have invited you to return with her instead." Prudence flashed a surprised smile at him. To have done what he proposed was the last thing she would have dared to do. Had she given the invitation she would have been reproved quite as severely for taking the liberty as for absenting herself without permission. The privilege of independent action involving promiscuous hospitality was vested solely in Agatha and William. Matters appeared to have reached a deadlock. Steele had nothing to say! Prudence had nothing to say! Miss Agatha had no desire to help the situation by bridging the silence; and Mr Graynor had nothing further to add to his reproof. He seated himself. Since Miss Agatha remained standing Steele had no option but to do the same: he felt increasingly awkward, and wished he had taken advantage of Prudence's permission and remained out of it. "Sit down, sit down," exclaimed Mr Graynor suddenly, with an accession of ill-humour as he became aware of the general strain. "Why is every one standing?" His intervention scarcely relieved matters. Steele said he thought he must be going, and murmured something about an early start on the morrow; he had merely called to make his adieux. Miss Agatha's prompt acceptance of this explanation for the brevity of his visit was not flattering; but Mr Graynor, awakening tardily to a sense of the lack of cordiality, protested against his leaving so hurriedly. "William will be in presently," he said. "You had better wait and see him. And we'll have tea. I see no object in deferring tea, Agatha, until a given hour." "Prudence," Agatha commanded, "ring the bell, please." Steele attempted to forestall the girl; their hands touched as each reached out to press the button. "Oh, Lord!" he murmured under his breath, and caught her eye and smiled dryly. "It will require something more efficacious than dock leaves to counteract these nettles." She drew back without replying, but her face was charged with meaning, and he detected the hidden laughter in her eyes. It was well for her, he decided, that she could find anything to laugh at in the dismal situation; for himself he would gladly have escaped and sacrificed the tea; a whisky and soda would have suited him better at the moment.