He followed this new uncle up the dark staircase without any misgiving, and found himself quickly in the well-warmed and well-lighted eating parlour, where Mistress Susan was already bustling about in a very noisy fashion, getting the viands ready for serving.

A dark frown was on her face, and her whole aspect was thundery.
The sisters and Rachel had all vanished upstairs to hear Cherry's story as they got her ready for the supper table, excitement in this new arrival of an unknown kinsman having saved the girl from any chiding or questioning from father or aunt.

The Coles, father and son, had returned to the upper parlour with the discretion and refinement of feeling natural to them; so that only Abraham Dyson witnessed the next scene in the little domestic drama, for Jacob had obediently gone off with the horse.
Martin Holt pushed his nephew before him into the lighted room, and looked him well over from head to foot.
"There is little of thy mother about thee, boy," he said, with some stern bitterness of tone.

"I fear me thou art all thy father's son." "My father says not so," answered Cuthbert, facing his uncle fearlessly.

"He has flung it again and yet again in my teeth that I am the heretic son of my heretic mother." Martin Holt uttered an inarticulate exclamation and came a step nearer.
"Say that again, boy--say that again! Can it be true that thy unhappy and deluded mother repented of her Popish errors ere she died, and turned back to the pure faith of her childhood?
If that be so, it is like a mill stone rolled from off my heart.