Father was two days late, I noted. He'd left for business in London on Monday, saying he would be back that evening. It was now Wednesday afternoon. He was never late.
Mother wasn't at dinner that evening. Instead, just Samantha and me sat at table. Samantha had started lessons on how to be a lady, but I was still determined to slurp my soup as loud as I could.
I saw Milton curl the side of his mouth a bit as I increased the volume. Milton, our butler, was generally a solemn cove, but he did have a good sense of humor.