"Emily," said Mr. Chandos, gravely, "you cannot go into your mamma's rooms at present."
"But I will go."
"My dear, you must not; at least until I have spoken to you. There are urgent reasons against it."
"What are the reasons?"
"I will tell you later. You had better have some tea first. Shall I ring for Hill to show you a chamber?"
"I will be shown to a chamber when I have been in to mamma," she defiantly responded. "Take yourself out of the way, Harry."
For Mr. Chandos was standing between her and the door. "Emily, did I ever advise you but for your good—your comfort? Pray attend to me."
"For my good, no doubt," she said, with a gay laugh. "I don't know about my comfort. Harry, we shall come to a battle royal, if you don't move from that door. I am quite determined to go into the west wing, and I will not be stopped. Goodness me! you are trying to control me as though I were a child."
Mr. Chandos opened the door and followed her out. In the hall they stood for a moment talking together in a whisper, and I heard a cry of pain and dismay escape her lips.