My grandfather summoned me to his presence before noon.  I breakfasted with Oliver; my uncle did not honour us; it was his habit, his son informed me, to lie abed late.  The girl Evelyn Milne came down, slim and pale in her black gown; she gave us the chillest of “good mornings,” and sat silent and obscure through the meal.  Thrale waited on us; recalling all Oliver had said to ............