She had brought it on herself by asking what he wanted _now_ when he had
broken the frightful silence by addressing her affectionately as
"Vikey."

"What I want," said Ranny then, "is a change. I want bracing; and bright
surroundings, and entertaining society. I shall go and live at
Brookwood."

At last it was too much for anybody (the fury, this time). It was too
much for the charwoman, even once a fortnight, and she refused to come
again. It was too much for the little girl who minded Baby in the
mornings, and she left. Her mother said she wouldn't "have her put
upon," and complained that Mrs. Ransome had served her something
shameful. Ransome hardly liked to think how Violet could have served the
little girl.

Before long he had an inkling. For presently a new and incredible
quality revealed itself in Violet.

Up till now she had never been unkind to the Baby. She had neglected it;
she had been indifferent to it; but it had seemed impossible, not only
to Ransome, but to Violet herself, that she could be positively unkind.
He had charged the neglect to her ignorance, and the indifference to the
perversity of her passion for her husband. It was thus that his mother
had explained the mystery, and at moments it looked as if she might be
right.

But now that the little thing was on its feet, padding about with a
pathetic and ridiculous uncertainty, stumbling and upsetting itself,
sitting down suddenly, and clutching at things as it overbalanced, and
dragging them with it in its fall, Violet could only think of it as a
perfect and omnipresent nuisance, a thing inspired to torment her with
its malignant and deliberate activity. And from this she went on to
think of it as grown-up at fifteen months, a mature person, infinitely
responsible. Its misfortunes, its infirmities, its innocences were
counted to it as sins. When jam spread itself over Baby's face and
buried itself in Baby's neck, and leaped forth and ran down to the
skirts of its clothing, Baby was "a nasty little thing!" and "a naughty,
naughty girl!"

Then once, in a fit of exasperation, Violet slapped Baby's hands and
found such blessed relief in that exercise that the slapping habit grew
on her. Cries of anguish went up from Granville, till the neighbors two
doors on either side complained.

But tiny hands, slapped till (as she said) she was tired of slapping
them, gave no scope, offered no continuous outlet to the imprisoned
spirit within. Violet, u