“Aren’t you coming in to eat your dinner, William?” he demanded.
“I’ve dined,” William replied shortly.
“Then I think you’d better go into the library and sit down,” said his father meaningly.
William, halting in his walk, stared for a moment, puzzled. Then he understood, and a deep red went up to his forehead. Without a word, he turned, went into the library, and shut the door.
Miranda had brought on the dessert, but only Emily and Daniel ate it. There was a heavy silence. Mr. Carter sat moodily, apparently listening, and Mrs. Carter could think of nothing to say. She tried two or three times and stopped, aghast at her own temerity. The three vacant chairs—William’s, Fanchon’s, and Leigh’s—seemed to gape at them. Daniel finally rose.
“I’ve got to prepare a paper for Judge Jessup,” he remarked quietly, and left the room.
They heard him light his cigar and go up-stairs. It was then that Mr. Carter rose also and went as usual into the library. Emily and her mother, left alone, gaped at each other in a startled way. They heard voices in the library, and then a heavy silence, filled with the odor of tobacco. Emily began to be a little frightened.
“Mama, do you suppose she’s run away?” she whispered in an awed tone.
Mrs. Carter cast a frightened look toward Miranda’s retreating figure, and shook her head.
“I don’t know, Emily. Suppose we go and sit in the parlor? I don’t think papa wants us in the library.”