If they had not been present, it would have passed off with a strong undercurrent of uneasiness and discomfort, yet with composure.

Mr.Tuxbury would have helped the guests to beefsteak, and the rest of the family would have preferred the warmed-up veal stew.
Or had the guests looked approvingly at the stew, the scanty portion of beefsteak would have satisfied the furthest desires of the family.
But the perfect understanding among the adults did not extend to the two little girls.

They leaned forward, with their red lips parted, and watched their uncle anxiously as he carved the beefsteak.

There was evidently not much of it, and their anxiety grew.

When it was separated into three portions, two of which were dispensed to the guests, and the other, having been declined by their grandmother and mother, was appropriated by their uncle, anxiety lapsed into certainty.
"I want some beefsteak!" wailed each, in wofully injured tones.
Mr.Tuxbury set his mouth hard, and pushed his plate with a jerk toward his niece.