My father lacked a subject for his vexation, and turned upon old Bowles: "Take the dinner to -- --" "-- the kitchen," said I, "and keep it warm for ten minutes; we are not ready.

Now, my dear father, come to my room, for I have something to tell you." There was no need for Polly to ask Aunt Maria to go with her.

That lady drove her daughter before her to her bedroom, with a severity of aspect which puzzled and alarmed poor Leo, whom they passed in the corridor.

A blind man could have told by the rustle of her dress that Mrs.Ascott would have a full explanation before she broke bread again at our table.
I fancy she was not severe upon the future Lady Damer, when Polly's tale was told.
As to my father, he was certainly vexed and put out at first.

But day by day my lady-love won more and more of his heart.