“I need not point out the advantages of the plan,” said Anthony suavely.  “There may be trouble here, although I doubt it.  But in any event you will have to come out, and this seems an excellent way.”

“Is it a good thing to spend a lot of money now, grandfather, when there is so much discontent?”

Old Anthony had a small jagged vein down the center of his forehead, and in anger or his rare excitements it stood out like a scar.  Lily saw it now, but his voice was quiet enough.

“I consider it vitally important to the country to continue its social life as before the war.”

“You mean, to show we are not frightened?”

“Frightened!  Good God, nobody’s frightened.  It will take more than a handful of demagogues to upset this government.  Which brings me to a subject you insist on reopening, by your conduct.  I have reason to believe that you are still going to that man’s house.”

He never called Doyle by name if he could avoid it.

“I have been there several times.”

“After you were forbidden?”

His tone roused every particle of antagonism in her.  She flushed.

“Perhaps because I was forbidden,” she said, slowly.  “Hasn’t it occurred to you that I may consider your attitude very unjust?”

If she looked for an outburst from him it did not come.  He stood for a moment, deep in thought.

“You understand that this Doyle once tried to assassinate me?”

“I know that he tried to beat you, grandfather.  I am sorry, but that was long ago.  And there was a reason for it, wasn’t there?”

“I see,” he said, slowly.  “What you are conveying to me, not too delicately, is that you have definitely allied yourself with my enemies.  That, here in my own house, you intend to defy me.  That, regardless of my wishes or commands, while eating my food, you purpose to traffic with a man who has sworn to get me, sooner or later.  Am I correct?”

“I have only said that I see no reason why I should not visit Aunt Elinor.”

“And that you intend to.  Do I understand also that you refuse to go to Newport?”

“I daresay I shall have to go, if you send me.  I don’t want to go.”

“Very well.  I am glad we have had this little talk.  It makes my own course quite plain.  Good-night.”

He opened the door for her and she went out and down the stairs.  She felt very calm, and as though something irrevocable had happened.  With her anger at her grandfather there was mixed a sort of pity for him, because she knew that nothing he could do would change the fundamental situation.  Even if he locked her up, and that was possible, he would know that he had not really changed things, or her.  She felt surprisingly strong.  All these years that she had feared him, and yet when it came to a direct issue, he was helpless!  What had he but his wicked tongue, and what did that matter to deaf ears?