My mother had been weeping, I saw by her eyes: but her aspect seemed to be less tender, and less affectionate, than the day before; and this, as soon as I entered into her presence, struck me with an awe, which gave a great damp to my spirits.
Sit down, Clary Harlowe; I shall talk to you by-and-by: and continued looking into a drawer among laces and linens, in a way neither busy nor unbusy.
I believe it was a quarter of an hour before she spoke to me (my heart throbbing with the suspense all the time); and then she asked me coldly, What directions I had given for the day?
I shewed her the bill of fare for this day, and to-morrow, if, I said, it pleased her to approve of it.
She made a small alteration in it; but with an air so cold and so solemn, as added to my emotions.
Mr. Harlowe talks of dining out to-day, I think, at my brother Antony's—
Mr. Harlowe!—Not my father!—Have I not then a father!—thought I.
Sit down when I bid you.
I sat down.
You look very sullen, Clary.