lp it. The holy
woman had nothing to say that he cared to hear, and he nothing to say
that she cared to listen to. She had a horror, too, of what she called
"the pleasures of the table"--those lusts of the flesh! She was always
longing to dock his grub, he knew. Would see her further first! What
other pleasures were there at his age? Let her wait till she was eighty.
But she never would be; too thin and holy!

This evening, however, with the advent of the partridge she did speak.

"Who were your visitors, Father?"

Trust her for nosing anything out! Fixing his little blue eyes on her,
he mumbled with a very full mouth: "Ladies."

"So I saw; what ladies?"

He had a longing to say: 'Part of one of my families under the rose.'
As a fact it was the best part of the only one, but the temptation
to multiply exceedingly was almost overpowering. He checked himself,
however, and went on eating partridge, his secret irritation crimsoning
his cheeks; and he watched her eyes, those cold precise and round grey
eyes, noting it, and knew she was thinking: 'He eats too much.'

She said: "Sorry I'm not considered fit to be told. You ought not to be
drinking hock."

Old Heythorp took up the long green glass, drained it, and repressing
fumes and emotion went on with his partridge. His daughter pursed her
lips, took a sip of water, and said:

"I know their name is Larne, but it conveyed nothing to me; perhaps it's
just as well."

The old man, mastering a spasm, said with a grin:

"My daughter-in-law and my granddaughter."

"What! Ernest married--Oh! nonsense!"

He chuckled, and shook his head.

"Then do you mean to say, Father, that you were married before you
married my mother?"

"No."

The expression on her face was as good as a play!

She said with a sort of disgust: "Not married! I see. I suppose those
people are hanging round your neck, then; no wonder you're always in
difficulties. Are there any more of them?"

Again the old man suppressed that spasm, and the veins in his neck and
forehead swelled alarmingly. If he had spoken he would infallibly have
choked. He ceased eating, and putting his hands on the table tried to
raise himself. He could not and subsiding in his chair sat glaring at
the stiff, quiet figure of his daughter.

"Don't be silly, Father, and make a scene before Meller. Finish your
dinner."

He did not answer. He was not going to sit there to be dragooned and
insulted! His helplessness had nev