Then there arose before his mind's eye the beautiful grounds and noble mansion of Kilworthy, the pleasant company there—and Julian. He shook his head impatiently, set his teeth, and stamped on the floor, but he could not rid himself of the thoughts.
"I do not see, 'fore Heaven, why we should not have a clean table-cover," he said at dinner; "nor why every dish should be huddled on to the board at once. I am not a pig, and accustomed to feed as in a stye."
Urith looked at him with surprise, and saw that displeasure was lowering on his brow.
She answered him gently, but he spoke again in the same peevish, fault-finding tones. He complained that the pewter dishes were hacked with knives, and the mugs bent out of shape and unpolished. If they must eat as do servants in a kitchen, let them at least have the utensils in trim order.
Urith sought in vain to dispel the ill-humour that troubled him; this was her first experience of domestic disagreement. The tears came into her eyes from disappointment, and then his ill-humour proved contagious. She caught the infection and ceased to speak. This annoyed him, and he asked her why she said nothing.
"When there are clouds over Lynx Tor there is vapour over Hare Tor as well," she answered. "If you are in gloom I am not like to be in sunshine. What ails you?"
"It is too maddening that my father should remain stubborn," he said. "You cannot expect me to be always gay, with the consciousness that I am an outcast from Hall."
She might have answered sharply, and the lightning would then have flashed from cloud to cloud, had not, at that moment, Luke entered the house.
"Come at last!" was Anthony's ungracious salutation.
"I have not been here often, certainly," said Luke, "for I did not suppose you wanted me; the parson is desired by those in sorrow and tears, not by those in perfect happiness."