"I do not believe she has a particle of love for him. Don't think me uncharitable; it is the truth; Val will tell you the same. She is not capable of experiencing common affection for any one; every feeling of her nature is merged in self-interest. Had her daughter left another boy she would not be dismayed at the prospect of this one's death; whether he lived or died, it would be all one to her. The grievance is that Reginald should have the chance of succeeding." "Because he is your son. I understand. A vain, puffed-up old thing! the idea of her still painting her face and wearing false curls! I wonder you tolerate her in your house, Anne! She's always here." "How can I help myself? She considers, I believe, that she has more right in this house than I have." "Does she make things uncomfortable?" "More so than I have ever confessed, even to my husband. From the hour of my marriage she set the two children against me, and against my children when they came; and she never ceases to do so still." "Why do you submit to it?" "She is their grandmother, and I cannot well deny her the house. Val might do so, but he does not. Perhaps I should have had courage to attempt it, for the children's own sake, it is so shocking to train them to ill-nature, but that he appears to think as she does. The petty disputes between the children are frequent--for my two elder ones are getting of an age to turn again when put upon--but their father never corrects Edward and Maude, or allows them to be corrected; let them do what wrong they will, he takes their part. I believe that if Edward _killed_ one of my children, he would only caress him." Lady Laura turned her eyes on the speaker's face, on its flush of pain and mortification. "And Val loved you: and did _not_ love Maude! What does it mean, Anne?" "I cannot tell you. Things altogether are growing more than I can bear." "Margaret has been with you some time; has she not interfered, or tried to put things upon a right footing?" Anne shook her head. "She espouses the dowager's side; upholds the two children in their petty tyranny. No one in the house takes my part, or my children's." "That is just like Margaret. Do you remember how you and I used to dread her domineering spirit when we were girls? It's time I came, I think, to set things right." "Laura, neither you nor any one else can set things right. They have been wrong too long. The worst is, I cannot see what the evil is, as regards Val. If I ask him he repels me, or laughs at me, and tells me I am fanciful. That he has some secret trouble I have long known: his days are unhappy, his nights restless; often when he thinks me asleep I am listening to his sighs. I am glad you have come home; I have wanted a true friend to confide these troubles to, and I could only speak of them to one of the family." "It sounds like a romance," cried Laura. "Some secret grief! What can it be?"