A Desultory Hiss

I spent a nice day on the home office couch, bathing and undisturbed.  Late in the evening, I ventured upstairs for food, water, toilet and meds.  The Orange Outrage was on a chair in the dining room.  I didn't even notice him at first, and when I did, I gave him a desultory hiss. He didn't bother to return my greeting. Standoffish.
 My mistress calmed me, as always, and I decided to watch the fireworks from the Esplanade in Boston rather than create some fireworks of my own.  A lazy day makes a lazy cat.  Meditation is good.
What does this mean?  Have I accepted the Interloper?  My mistress, who knows me well, remarked that there could be "setbacks," and "don't everyone get their hopes up."  Whatever can she mean?
Everyone went to bed and the orange outrage disappeared into his chambers in the guest room.  I continued my snooze.  Let's see what the morrow brings.  

Thisbe, who has somewhat calmed herself.  The picture is not of me, but of the dessert my mistress made.  Everyone ooohed and awwed. It didn't even smell like catnip or fancy feast or Atkins for Kitties.