She seemed to feel tears in her heart when she laid the plates, but none sprang to her eyes.
Somehow, handling these familiar inanimate things was the acutest torture.

Presently she smelled eggs burning.

She realized that her father was burning up the eggs, in his utter ignorance of cookery.
She thought privately that she didn't believe but she could cook the eggs, but she dared not go out in the kitchen.

Her father, in his anxiety, had actually reached ferocity.

He had always petted her, in his easy-going fashion, now he terrified her.