But even then what did the wretched boy mean?
Arrested by the unnatural fascination of opportunity, Miss Flynn
received before lunch a telegram from Colonel Chart--an order for
dinner and a vehicle; he and Godfrey were to arrive at six o'clock.
Adela had plenty of occupation for the interval, since she was
pitying her father when she wasn't rejoicing that her mother had gone
too soon to know. She flattered herself she made out the
providential reason of that cruelty now. She found time however
still to wonder for what purpose, given the situation, Godfrey was to
he brought down. She wasn't unconscious indeed that she had little
general knowledge of what usually was done with young men in that
predicament. One talked about the situation, but the situation was
an abyss. She felt this still more when she found, on her father's
arrival, that nothing apparently was to happen as she had taken for
granted it would. There was an inviolable hush over the whole
affair, but no tragedy, no publicity, nothing ugly. The tragedy had
been in town--the faces of the two men spoke of it in spite of their
other perfunctory aspects; and at present there was only a family
dinner, with Beatrice and Muriel and the governess--with almost a
company tone too, the result of the desire to avoid publicity. Adela
admired her father; she knew what he was feeling if Mrs. Godfrey had
been at him, and yet she saw him positively gallant. He was mildly
austere, or rather even--what was it?--august; just as, coldly
equivocal, he never looked at his son, so that at moments he struck
her as almost sick with sadness.
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