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'Father Consett,' Sylvia said to her mother, 'has been renewing his social circle.'

'It's not,' Father Consett said, 'amongst the dregs of the people that you must live if you don't want to hear of the dregs of society.'

Sylvia stood up. She said:

'You'll keep your tongue off my best friends if you want me to stop and be lectured. But for Mrs. Vanderdecken I should not be here, returned to the fold!'

Father Consett exclaimed:

'Don't say it, child. I'd rather, heaven help me, you had gone on living in open sin.'

Sylvia sat down again, her hands listlessly in her lap. 'Have it your own way,' she said, and the Father returned to the fourth sheet of the telegram.

'What does this mean?' he asked. He had returned to the first sheet. 'This here: "Accept resumption yoke"?' he read, breathlessly.

'Sylvia,' Mrs Satterthwaite said, 'go and light the spirit lamp for some tea. We shall want it.'

'You'd think I was a district messenger boy,' Sylvia said as she rose. 'Why don't you keep your maid up?...It's a way we had of referring to our...union,' she explained to the Father.