"What _is_ the matter, papa?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Mr. Vanstone, sharply, without looking up at her.

"I'm sure there must be something," persisted Magdalen. "I'm sure there
is bad news, papa, in that American letter."

"There is nothing in the letter that concerns _you_," said Mr. Vanstone.

It was the first direct rebuff that Magdalen had ever received from her
father. She looked at him with an incredulous surprise, which would have
been irresistibly absurd under less serious circumstances.

Nothing more was said. For the first time, perhaps, in their lives, the
family sat round the breakfast-table in painful silence. Mr. Vanstone's
hearty morning appetite, like his hearty morning spirits, was gone. He
absently broke off some morsels of dry toast from the rack near him,
absently finished his first cup of tea--then asked for a second, which
he left before him untouched.

"Norah," he said, after an interval, "you needn't wait for me. Magdalen,
my dear, you can go when you like."

His daughters rose immediately; and Miss Garth considerately followed
their example. When an easy-tempered man does assert himself in his
family, the rarity of the demonstration invariably has its effect; and
the will of that easy-tempered man is Law.

"What can have happened?" whispered Norah, as they closed the
breakfast-room door and crossed the hall.