I was a busy lad at that meal; a speechless
one, consequently, and for some minutes so engrossed in the business
of my jaws that I did not heed the unwonted silence of the rest. Then
suddenly it came upon me as something embarrassing and painful that
Mr. and Mrs. Faringfield, who usually conversed at meals, had nothing
to say, and that Philip Winwood sat gloomy and taciturn, merely going
through a hollow form of eating. As for Fanny, she was the picture of
childish sorrow, though now tearless. Only Madge and little Tom, who
had found some joke between themselves, occasionally spluttered with
suppressed laughter, smiling meanwhile knowingly at each other.
Of course this depression was due to the absence of Ned, regarding the
cause of which his mother was still in the dark. Not missing him until
we children had filed in to supper after tidying up, she had then
remarked that he was not yet in.
"He will not be home to supper," Mr. Faringfield had replied, in a
tone that forbade questioning until the pair should be alone, and
motioning his wife to be seated at the table. After that he had once
or twice essayed to talk upon casual subjects, as if nothing had
happened, but he had perceived that the attempt was hopeless while
Mrs. Faringfield remained in her state of deferred curiosity and vague
alarm, and so he had desisted.
After supper, which the lady's impatience made shorter than my
appetite would have dictated, the husband and wife went into the small
parlour, closing the door upon us children in the library.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54