She looked gratefully at Ruth when a small dish of curry made its appearance, in addition to the scanty menu; but Uncle Bernard had spent some years of his life in India, and his ideas of curry evidently differed from those of the plain cook downstairs, for after the first taste he laid down his fork and made no further pretence of eating.
Mr Connor made several attempts to introduce interesting subjects of conversation, but receiving only monosyllabic replies, relapsed in his turn into silence. With every moment that passed, the girls felt less able to imagine the reason for the appearance of a visitor who showed so little interest in the affairs of the family; for Mr Farrell asked no questions, paid no attention to the general conversation, and, for the greater part of the time, appeared lost in his own thoughts.
The three little boys alone were unaffected by the general tension, and chattered about their school adventures in their usual noisy fashion. On another occasion Mrs Connor would have checked them, but anything was better than the dead silence which at one time had threatened the whole table; so she left them unreproved, and Uncle Bernard scowled at them beneath his bushy brows in a manner the reverse of approving.
It happened that Betty occupied the seat immediately opposite the visitor, and it was one of Betty’s idiosyncrasies to repeat the grimaces of others with an imitation as faithful as it was unconscious. When, for example, Mollie was speaking, Betty tossed her head, tilted her chin, and arched her brows, to the delight and amusement of the family; and now, there she sat—good, kind, most inoffensive of creatures—drawing her wisps of eyebrows together in a lowering scowl, and twisting her lips into an expression of sour distaste.
The three boys nudged each other and tittered together, and Mr Farrell looked round to discover the reason of their mirth, and beheld Betty’s transformed face peering into his own. His glance of indignation made her flush with what appeared to be conscious guilt, though, in truth, the poor child had no idea of the nature of her offence. Mrs Connor beheld the incident with petrified horror, Ruth registered a determination to lecture Betty out of so dangerous a habit, but warm-hearted Mollie rushed headlong into the breach.
“Uncle Bernard, Betty did not mean to be rude! Please do not think she was intentionally disrespectful. She has a habit of imitating people, without knowing what she is about, and I am afraid we laugh at her for it, because it is so funny to watch; but she would be dreadfully sorry to be rude to anyone, wouldn’t you, Betty dear?”
Betty’s lips opened to emit a hoarse, inarticulate murmur. Uncle Bernard turned his eyes upon Mollie, and said coldly—
“You wish to imply that she was imitating my expressions? Indeed! It is always interesting to know in what light one appears to others. I regret that I failed to catch the likeness.”
“Dear Uncle Bernard, shall we go to the drawing-room now? The children use this room to prepare their lessons. We will have coffee in the drawing-room!” cried Mrs Connor eagerly. And the elders filed across the hall, leaving poor Betty reduced to tears of misery, while the boys comforted her by jibes and jeers in true schoolboy fashion.
In the drawing-room a ghastly silence prevailed, broken by fitful efforts of conversation. Mr Farrell had asked that a cab should be ordered by nine o’clock to take him back to his hotel; but, though the time drew nearer and nearer, he still vouchsafed no explanation of the unexpected visit. Surely—surely, before going away he would say something, and not once more disappear into the mist, and let the veil of silence fall around him? The same thought was in every mind, the same wondering anticipation; but it was only when the cab was announced and Mr Farrell rose to say good-bye that he appeased their curiosity.