There would begin now one of the Jampot's sulks--moods well known to the Cole family, and lasting from a day to a week, according to the gravity of the offence.

Yes, they had already begun.

There she sat in her chair by the fire, sewing, sewing, her fat, roly-poly face carved into a parody of deep displeasure.

Life would be very unpleasant now.

No tops of eggs, no marmalade on toast, no skins of milk, no stories of "when I was a young girl," no sitting up five minutes "later," no stopping in the market-place for a talk with the banana woman--only stern insistence on every detail of daily life; swift judgment were anything left undone or done wrong.
Jeremy sighed; yes, it would be horrid and, for the sake of the world in general, which meant Mary and Helen, he must see what a little diplomacy would do.