Sylvia piled his plate. She played with a few potatoes herself, and Mr. Leeson ate in satisfied silence.
“Really they are nice,” he said. “I have enjoyed my dinner. I do not know when I made such a luxurious meal. I shall not need any supper to-night.”
“But I shall,” said Sylvia stoutly. “There will be supper at nine o’clock as usual, and I hope you will be present, father.”
“Well, my dear, have something very plain. I am absolutely satisfied for twenty-four hours. And you, darling—did you make a good meal?”
“Yes, thank you, father.”
“There were a great many potatoes cooked. I see they are all finished.”
“Yes, father.”
“I am now going back to my sitting-room. I shall be engaged for some hours. What are you going to do, Sylvia?”
“I shall go out presently for a walk.”
“Is it not rather dangerous for you to wander about in such deep snow?”