He left the room as if he had said nothing remarkable. But it was
remarkable, in Adelaide's experience, that he should avoid any
responsibility, and even more so that he should shift it to her
shoulders. For an instant she faced the possibility, the most terrible of
any that had occurred to her, that the balance was changing between them;
that she, so willing to be led, was to be forced to guide. She had seen
it happen so often between married couples--the weight of character begin
on one side of the scale, and then slowly the beam would shift. Once it
had happened to her. Was it to happen again? No, she told herself; never
with Farron. He would command or die, lead her or leave her.

Mathilde knocked at her door, as she did every morning as soon as her
stepfather had gone down town. She had had an earlier account of Mr.
Lanley's interview. It had read:

"DEAREST GIRL:

"The great discussion did not go very well, apparently. The opinion
prevails at the moment that no engagement can be allowed to exist between
us. I feel as if they were all meeting to discuss whether or not the sun
is to rise to-morrow morning. You and I, my love, have special
information that it will."

After this it needed no courage to go down and hear her mother's account
of the interview. Adelaide was still in bed, but one long, pointed
fingertip, pressed continuously upon the dangling bell, a summons that
had long since lost its poignancy for the temperamental Lucie, indicated
that she was about to get up.