You be a good boy, and go and tell your father you're sorry..." or "Well, then, Master Jeremy, there'll be another time, I dare say, you can go to the the-ayter..." But she found no response.

If there was one thing that she hated, it was sulks.

Here they were, sulks of the worst--and so, like many wiser than herself, she covered up with a word a situation that she did not understand, and left it at that.
The evening came on; the curtains were drawn.

Tea arrived; still Jeremy sat there, not speaking, not raising his eyes, a condemned creature.
Mary and Helen and Hamlet had had a wretched day.

They all sympathised with him.
The girls went to dress.