He was still standing there when Mr Amedroz came down into the hall,
dressed for dinner, and saw his figure through the open doors. 'Will,'
he said, coming up to him, 'it only wants five minutes to dinner.'
Belton started and shook himself, as though he were shaking off a
lethargy, and declared that he was quite ready. Then he remembered that
he would be expected to dress, and rushed upstairs, three steps at a
time, to his own room. When he came down, Clara and her father were
already in the dining-room, and he joined them there.

Mr Amedroz, though he was not very quick in reading facts from the
manners of those with whom he lived, had felt assured that things had
gone wrong between Belton and his daughter. He had not as yet had a
minute in which to speak to Clara, but he was certain that it was so.
Indeed, it was impossible not to read terrible disappointment and deep
grief in the young man's manner. He made no attempt to conceal it,
though he did not speak of it. Through the whole evening, though he was
alone for a while with the squire, and alone also for a time with
Clara, he never mentioned or alluded to the subject of his rejection.
But he bore himself as though he knew and they knew as though all the
world knew that he had been rejected. And yet he did not remain silent.
He talked of his property and of his plans, and explained how things
were to be done in his absence. Once only was there something like an
allusion made to his sorrow. 'But you will be here at Christmas?' said
Mr Amedroz, in answer to something which Belton had said as to work to
be done in his absence. 'I do not know how that may be now,' said
Belton. And then they had all been silent.

It was a terrible evening to Clara. She endeavoured to talk, but found
it to be impossible. All the brightness of the last few days had