He ceased with a bitter laugh, and sat down again in his chair.

Horace and his sister waited.
'I've no more to say,' fell from their father at length.

'Go and talk about it together, if you like.' Horace moved sullenly towards the door, and with a glance at his sister went out.

Nancy, after lingering for a moment, spoke.
'I don't think you need have any fear of it, father.' 'Perhaps not.

But if it isn't that one, it'll be another like her.
There's not much choice for a lad like Horace.' Nancy changed her purpose of leaving the room, and drew a step nearer.
'Don't you think there _might_ have been ?' Mr.Lord turned to look at her.
'How?
What do you mean ?' 'I don't want to make you angry with me--' 'Say what you've got to say,' broke in her father impatiently.
'It isn't easy, when you so soon lose your temper.' 'My girl,'-- for once he gazed at her directly,--'if you knew all I have gone through in life, you wouldn't wonder at my temper being spoilt .-- What do you mean?
What could I have done ?' She stood before him, and spoke with diffidence.
'Don't you think that if we had lived in a different way, Horace and I might have had friends of a better kind ?' 'A different way ?--I understand.