She has delivered up the coffee to Margaret, to whom she always look as a sure ally.

So calm, so pretty in her demeanour, that Rylton, taking heart of grace, throws to her a word or two--to his utter chagrin! Not that the words are not responded to; not one of them, indeed, but is answered, yet Tita's eyes had not gone with her words.

They had been downcast; busied, presumably, with the tea-cup now, or a smile to her neighbour on her left, or a chiding to the fox-terrier at her knee.

She gives Rylton the impression, at all events, that she will be civil to him in the future, but that she regrets the fact that she has to be.
When the hateful meal is over he rises, telling himself that he must make it up with her, and as soon as possible.

That child! to have a living feud with _her_.