“Upon my word, Maddie,” he said, “no one can accuse you of not having the courage of your opinions. It isn’t everybody—not I, I confess, for one—who would venture to pull up Ryder Morion for anything he does or does not do, or choose to do.”
Madeleine still looked annoyed.
“I think it must run in the family,” she said, in a tone of irritation.
“What—and what family?” inquired her brother.
“Bearishness,” she replied curtly—“bearishness in the Morion family, of course.” Horace shrugged his shoulders.
They were crossing the landing to go downstairs again; but at that moment Mrs Littlewood’s maid met them with a request that Madeleine would go to her mother’s room for a moment. So, telling her brother that she would join him in a few minutes for their projected stroll round the house, she left him, to do as she was asked.