Shame! He saw Rodney's cap in the hall--he's in the dining room."
Aloud she said cheerfully: "I think this is dreadful--making you
work so hard, Rod. Come--tea's nearly ready. You and I'll wait for
it in the dining room, like the gentleman and lady we are!"

"Oh, I'm having a grand time!" Rodney laughed. But he allowed
himself to be led away. A few minutes later Martie, with despair in
her heart, carried the loaded tray into the dining room.

Her father, in one of his bad moods, was sitting by the empty
fireplace. The room, in the early autumn twilight, was cold. Len had
come in and expected his share of the unfamiliar luxury of tea, and
more than his share of the hot toast.

Rodney, unaffected by the atmosphere, gaily busied himself with the
tray. Lydia came gently in with an armful of light wood which she
laid in the fireplace.

"There is no necessity for a fire," Malcolm said. "I wouldn't light
that, my dear."

"I thought--just to take the chill off," Lydia stammered.

Her father shook his head. Lydia subsided.

"We shall be having supper shortly, I suppose?" he asked patiently,
looking at a large gold watch. "It's after half-past five now."

"But, Pa," Lydia laughed a little constrainedly, "we never have
dinner until half-past six!"