The Colonel smiled at Eleanor. And the red dog on the hearthrug looked up too and wagged his tail, as if he recognised her for one of those satisfactory women who give you a bone, but wash their hands afterwards. She was the eldest of the daughters, about twenty-two, no beauty, but healthy, and though tired at the moment, naturally cheerful.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said. "I got kept. And I didn't expect--" She looked at her father.

"I got off earlier than I thought," he said hastily. "The meeting--" he stopped short. There had been another row with Mira.

"And how's your Grove, eh?" he added.

"Oh, my Grove--" she repeated; but Milly handed her the covered dish.

"I got kept," Eleanor said again, helping herself. She began to eat; the atmosphere lightened.

"Now tell us, Papa," said Delia boldly--she was his favourite daughter--"what you've been doing with yourself. Had any adventures?"

The remark was unfortunate.

"There aren't any adventures for an old fogy like me," said the Colonel surlily. He ground the grains of sugar against the walls of his cup. Then he seemed to repent of his gruffness; he pondered for a moment.

"I met old Burke at the Club; asked me to bring one of you to dinner; Robin's back, on leave," he said.

He drank up his tea. Some drops fell on his little pointed beard. He took out his large silk handkerchief and wiped his chin impatiently. Eleanor, sitting on her low chair, saw a curious look first on Milly's face, then on Delia's. She had an impression of hostility between them. But they said nothing. They went on eating and drinking until the Colonel took up his cup, saw there was nothing in it, and put it down firmly with a little chink. The ceremony of tea-drinking was over.

"Now, my boy, take yourself off and get on with your prep.," he said to Martin.

Martin withdrew the hand that was stretched towards a plate.

"Cut along," said the Colonel imperiously. Martin got up and went, drawing his hand reluctantly along the chairs and tables as if to delay his passage. He slammed the door rather sharply behind him. The Colonel rose and stood upright among them in his tightly buttoned frock-coat.

"And I must be off too," he said. But he paused a moment, as if there was nothing particular for him to be off to. He stood there very erect among them, as if he wished to give some order, but could not at the moment think of any order to give. Then he recollected.

"I wish one of you would remember," he said, addressing his daughters impartially, "to write to Edward. . . . Tell him to write to Mama."

"Yes," said Eleanor.

He moved towards the door. But he stopped.

"And let me know when Mama wants to see me," he remarked. Then he paused and pinched his youngest daughter by the ear.

"Grubby little ruffian," he said, pointing to the green stain on her pinafore.