It will readily be understood that Austin was in no hurry to confide anything about his experiences in the Banqueting Hall to his Aunt Charlotte.

The way in which she had received his straightforward, simple account of the curious impressions which had determined his choice of a route in coming home was enough, and more than enough, to seal his tongue.

He was sensitive in the extreme, and any lack of sympathy or comprehension made him retire immediately into his shell.
His aunt's demeanour imparted an air of reserve even to the description he gave her of the attractions of Moorcombe Court.

Perhaps the good lady was a trifle sore at never having been invited there herself.

One never knows.