children."

"I know," repeated Morel.

And he said no more, but sat and nursed his bad temper. Suddenly William
ran in, saying:

"Can I have my tea, mother?"

"Tha can ha'e more than that!" shouted Morel.

"Hold your noise, man," said Mrs. Morel; "and don't look so ridiculous."

"He'll look ridiculous before I've done wi' him!" shouted Morel, rising
from his chair and glaring at his son.

William, who was a tall lad for his years, but very sensitive, had gone
pale, and was looking in a sort of horror at his father.

"Go out!" Mrs. Morel commanded her son.

William had not the wit to move. Suddenly Morel clenched his fist, and
crouched.

"I'll GI'E him 'go out'!" he shouted like an insane thing.

"What!" cried Mrs. Morel, panting with rage. "You shall not touch him
for HER telling, you shall not!"

"Shonna I?" shouted Morel. "Shonna I?"

And, glaring at the boy, he ran forward. Mrs. Morel sprang in between
them, with her fist lifted.

"Don't you DARE!" she cried.

"What!" he shouted, baffled for the moment. "What!"

She spun round to her son.

"GO out of the house!" she commanded him in fury.

The boy, as if hypnotised by her, turned suddenly and was gone. Morel
rushed to the door, but was too late. He returned, pale under his
pit-dirt with fury. But now his wife was fully roused.

"Only dare!" she said in a loud, ringing voice. "Only dare, milord, to
lay a finger on that child! You'll regret it for ever."

He was afraid of her. In a towering rage, he sat down.

When the children were old enough to be left, Mrs. Morel joined
the Women's Guild. It was a little club of women attached to the
Co-operative Wholesale Society, which met on Monday night in the long
room over the grocery shop of the Bestwood "Co-op". The women were
supposed to discuss the benefits to be derived from co-operation, and
other social questions. Sometimes Mrs. Morel read a paper. It seemed
queer to the children to see their mother, who was always busy about
the house, sitting writing in her rapid fashion, thinking, referring
to books, and writing again. They felt for her on such occasions the
deepest respect.

But they loved the Guild. It was the only thing to which they did not
grudge their mother--and that partly because she enjoyed it, partly
because of the treats they derived from it. The Guild was called by some
hostile husbands, who found their wives getting too independent, the
"clat-fart" shop--that is, the gossip