Sylvia kissed it fondly, making a little moan of sad, passionate tenderness as she did so.

Then she took the cup of tea; but she said, rather defiantly, to Hester,-- 'I'll go to him with it, because mother bids me, and it'll ease her mind.' Then louder to her mother, she added,-- 'Mother, I'll take him his tea, though I couldn't help the being out.' If the act itself was conciliatory, the spirit in which she was going to do it was the reverse.

Hester followed her slowly into the ware-room, with intentional delay, thinking that her presence might be an obstacle to their mutually understanding one another.

Sylvia held the cup and plate of bread and butter out to Philip, but avoided meeting his eye, and said not a word of explanation, or regret, or self-justification.

If she had spoken, though ever so crossly, Philip would have been relieved, and would have preferred it to her silence.