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.
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