For something in Mercy's face, or in Mercy's tone, seemed to have silenced her, as it had silenced Grace.

Horace was the next who spoke.

In tones of suppressed rage and suspicion he addressed himself to Mercy, standing fronting him by Julian's side.
"Am I included," he asked, "in the arrangement which engages you to explain your extraordinary conduct in half an hour ?" _His_ hand had placed his mother's wedding present round Mercy's neck.

A sharp pang wrung her as she looked at Horace, and saw how deeply she had already distressed and offended him.

The tears rose in her eyes; she humbly and faintly answered him.
"If you please," was all she could say, before the cruel swelling at her heart rose and silenced her.
Horace's sense of injury refused to be soothed by such simple submission as this.
"I dislike mysteries and innuendoes," he went on, harshly.