But she had not the slightest idea of it.

She only knew that Tristram was stern and cold, and showed his disdain of her, and that even though she had made up her mind to be gentle and try to win him back with friendship, it was almost impossible.

She looked upon his increased, icy contempt of her at dinner as a protest at her outburst of tears during the day.
So the meal was got through, and the moment the coffee was brought he gulped it down, and then rose: he could not stand being alone with her for a moment.
She was looking so beautiful, and so meek, and so tragic, he could not contain the mixed emotions he felt.

He only knew if he had to bear them another minute he should go mad.

So, hardly with sufficient politeness he said: "I have some important documents to look over; I will wish you good night." And he hurried her from the room and went on to his own sitting-room in the other part of the house.