bear in mind, for the best of motives! She had their
interest at heart; she wanted to do what was right for them. Her manner
to him and to them was always honey-sweet--in all externals; yet one
could somehow feel it was the velvet glove that masked the iron hand;
not cruel, not harsh even, but severely, irresistibly, unflinchingly
crushing. "Ettie, my dear, get your brown hat at once. What's that?
Going to rain? I did not ask you, my child, for YOUR opinion on the
weather. My own suffices. A headache? Oh, nonsense! Headaches are caused
by want of exercise. Nothing so good for a touch of headache as a nice
brisk walk in Kensington Gardens. Maisie, don't hold your sister's hand
like that; it is imitation sympathy! You are aiding and abetting her
in setting my wishes at naught. Now, no long faces! What _I_ require is
CHEERFUL obedience."

A bland, autocratic martinet: smiling, inexorable! Poor, pale Ettie grew
thinner and wanner under her law daily, while Maisie's temper, naturally
docile, was being spoiled before one's eyes by persistent, needless
thwarting.

As spring came on, however, I began to hope that things were
really mending. Le Geyt looked brighter; some of his own careless,
happy-go-lucky self came back again at intervals. He told me once, with
a wistful sigh, that he thought of sending the children to school in the
country--it would be better for them, he said, and would take a little
work off dear Clara's shoulders; for never even to me was he disloyal
to Clara. I encouraged him in the idea. He went on to say that the
great difficulty in the way was... Clara. She was SO conscientious; she
thought it her duty to look after the children herself, and couldn't
bear to delegate any part of that duty to others. Besides, she had such
an excellent opinion of the Kensington High School!

When I told Hilda Wade of this, she set her teeth together and answered
at once: "That settles it! The end is very near. HE will insist upon
their going, to save them from that woman's ruthless kindness; and SHE
will refuse to give up any part of what she calls her duty. HE will
reason with her; he will plead for his children; SHE will be adamant.
Not angry--it is never the way of that temperament to get angry--just
calmly, sedately, and insupportably provoking. When she goes too far,
he will flare up at last; some taunt will rouse him; the explosion will
come; and... the children will go to their Aunt Lina, whom they dote
upon. Wh