The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. No, don’t interrupt me. “Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily.
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