been prouder
than ever, and that is why I always loved her so; she was not to be put
down by circumstances, she was above external things.

But as time went on, and the dinner was nearly over--she had scarcely
eaten anything--and as she glanced from time to time at her father's
empty chair, and knew that he would not come, and that his defection
would revive the old quarrel which might so easily have been mended, the
Flamma blood began to rise and grow hotter and hotter, and the foot with
the worn boot on it began to tap the floor.

The Flamma blood would have liked to have swept the whole company over a
precipice into the Red Sea as the herd of swine in old time. It was
either the Red Sea or somewhere; geography is of no consequence.

Spain's an island near
Morocco, betwixt Egypt and Tangier.

The Flamma blood would have liked to have seen them all poisoned and
dying on their seats.

The Flamma blood would have been glad to stick a knife into each of
them--only it would not have touched them with the longest hop-pole in
Kent, so utter was its loathing of the crew gloating over that empty
chair.

And for once Amaryllis did not check it, and did not say to herself, "I
_will_ not be a Flamma."

Towards the end of the tedious banquet the word was passed round that
everyone was to sit still, as Grandfather Iden was coming to look at his
descendants.

There was not the least fear of any of them stirring, for they well knew
his custom--to walk round, and speak a few words to everyone in turn,
and to put a new golden sovereign into their hands. Thirty-two
sovereigns it was in all--one for each--but the thirty-third was always
a spade-guinea, which was presented to the individual who had best
pleased him during the year.

A genial sort of custom, no doubt, but fancy the emulation and the
heart-burning over the spade-guinea! For the fortunate winner usually
considered himself the nearest to the Will.

Amaryllis' cheeks began to burn at the thought that she should have to
take his horrible money. A hideous old monster he was to her at that
moment--not that he had done anything to her personally--but he left her
dear father to be worried out of his life by petty tradesmen, and her
dear mother to go without a pair of decent boots, while he made this
pompous distribution among these wretches. The hideous old monster!

Out in the town the boys behind his back gave him endless nicknames:
Granfer Iden