Even pending these alterations, others were in progress.  Every family arrangement was changed in some respect.  The hour for breakfast had been fixed at what Julius called a civilized time.  This, of course, delayed every other meal; yet the servants, who had grumbled at over-work under the old authority, had not a complaint to make under the new.  For the present master and mistress of Sandal were not people who cared for complaints.  “If you can do the work, Ann, you may stay,” said Sophia to the dissatisfied cook; “if not, the squire will pay you your due wages.  He has a friend in London whose cook would like a situation in the country.”  After which explanation Ann behaved herself admirably, and never found her work hard, though dinner was two hours later, and the supper dishes were not sent in until eleven o’clock.

But, though Julius had succeeded in bringing his table so far within his own ideas of comfort, in other respects he felt his impotence to order events.  Every meal-time brought him in contact with the widow Sandal and with Charlotte; and neither Sophia, nor yet himself, had felt able to request the late mistress to resign her seat at the foot of the table.  And Sophia soon began to think it unkind of her mother not to see the position, and voluntarily amend it.  “I do really think mother might have some consideration for me, Julius,” she complained.  “It puts me in such a very peculiar position not to take my place at my own table; and it is so trying and perplexing for the servants,—­making them feel as if there were two mistresses.”

“And always the calm, scornful face of your sister Charlotte at her side.  Do you notice with what ostentatious obedience and attention she devotes herself to your mother?”

“She thinks that she is showing me my duty, Julius.  But people have some duties toward themselves.”

“And towards their husbands.”

“Certainly.  I thank Heaven I have always put my husband first.”  And she really glanced upwards with the complacent air of one who expected Heaven to imitate men, and “praise her for doing well unto herself.”

“This state of things cannot go on much longer, Sophia.”

“Certainly it cannot.  Mother must look after her own house soon.”

“I would speak to her to-day, Sophia.  She has had six weeks now to arrange her plans, and next month I want to begin and put the house into decent condition.  I think I will write to London this afternoon, and tell Jeffcott to send the polishers and painters on the 15th of March.”

“Mother is so slow about things, I don’t think she will be ready to move so early.”

“Oh, I really can’t stand them any longer!  I can’t indeed, Sophia, and I won’t.  I did not marry your mother and sister, nor yet buy them with the place.  Your mother has her recognized rights in the estate, and she has a dower-house to which to retire; and the sooner she goes there now, the better.  You may tell her I say so.”