ead of which, on taking
her place, Iden carefully cut for her the most delicate slice of ham he
could find, and removed the superfluous fat before putting it on her
plate. Mrs. Iden had a special jug of cream ready for her--Amaryllis was
fond of cream--and enriched the tea with it generously.

"And what did you see at the fair?" asked Iden in his kindest voice,
lifting up his saucer--from which he always drank--by putting his thumb
under it instead of over, so that his thick little finger projected. He
always sipped his tea in this way.

"You had plenty of fun, didn't you?" said Mrs. Iden, still more kindly.

"I--I don't know; I did not see much of the fair," said Amaryllis, at a
loss to understand the change of manner.

Iden smiled at his wife and nodded; Mrs. Iden picked up a letter from
the tea-tray and gave it to her daughter:

"Read."

Amaryllis read--it was from Grandfather Iden, furiously upbraiding Iden
for neglecting his daughter's education; she had no reverence, no
manners--an undutiful, vulgar girl; she had better not show her face in
his house again till she had been taught to know her position; her
conduct was not fit for the kitchen; she had not the slightest idea how
to behave herself in the presence of persons of quality.

She put it down before she had finished the tirade of abuse; she did not
look up, her face was scarlet.

Iden laughed.

"Horrid old wretch! Served him right!" said Mrs. Iden. "So glad you
vexed him, dear!"

Amaryllis last night a wretch was this morning a heroine. The
grandfather's letter had done this.

Iden never complained--never mentioned his father--but of course in his
heart he bitterly felt the harsh neglect shown towards him and his wife
and their child. He was a man who said the less the more he was moved;
he gossiped freely with the men at the stile, or even with a hamlet old
woman. Not a word ever dropped from him of his own difficulties--he kept
his mind to himself. His wife knew nothing of his intentions--he was
over-secretive, especially about money matters, in which he affected
the most profound mystery, as if everyone in Coombe was not perfectly
aware they could hardly get a pound of sugar on credit.

All the more bitterly he resented the manner in which Grandfather Iden
treated him, giving away half-crowns, crown-pieces, shillings, and
fourpenny bits to anyone who would flatter his peculiarities, leaving
his own descendants to struggle daily with debt a