When Amelia stepped forward to salute him, which she always did with great trembling and timidity, he gave a surly grunt of recognition, and dropped the little hand out of his great hirsute paw without any attempt to hold it there.

He looked round gloomily at his eldest daughter; who, comprehending the meaning of his look, which asked unmistakably, "Why the devil is she here ?" said at once: "George is in town, Papa; and has gone to the Horse Guards, and will be back to dinner." "O he is, is he?
I won't have the dinner kept waiting for him, Jane"; with which this worthy man lapsed into his particular chair, and then the utter silence in his genteel, well-furnished drawing-room was only interrupted by the alarmed ticking of the great French clock.
When that chronometer, which was surmounted by a cheerful brass group of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, tolled five in a heavy cathedral tone, Mr.Osborne pulled the bell at his right hand--violently, and the butler rushed up.
"Dinner!" roared Mr.Osborne.
"Mr.George isn't come in, sir," interposed the man.
"Damn Mr.George, sir.

Am I master of the house?
DINNER!" Mr.Osborne scowled.

Amelia trembled.

A telegraphic communication of eyes passed between the other three ladies.