Still, Grosvenor Square was quite at a loss to understand it. But one thing was clear. The breach was widened by this painful incident; at least, Father, in his blindness, thought so. Had failure been the portion of this wicked revolt, forgiveness would have been easier. Its dazzling success seemed to put forgiveness out of the question.
Mother, perhaps, was inclined to weaken a bit. After all, did it really matter so much? And was it not better than leading an idle and useless life? However misplaced the ambition, surely it was an evidence of that dormant ability, which in her heart she had always known to be there, since her family was never without it.
Father, however, was adamant. It was an open flout. Moreover, it had rendered him ridiculous in the Inner Circle, which, however, so far from viewing the matter with exaggerated grief was rather inclined to see in it a joke of a high order. Why this should have been the case Father had no means of knowing. To one of his own staunch principles it was certainly no laughing matter.
As time passed, the maternal heart of Mother was disposed to relent, but Father, alas! would not hear of compromise. He felt too keenly this double act of filial disloyalty. It was rather absurd to view things
