Most people found her fascinating; she was intellectual and refined, and had many good qualities, but she was not essentially womanly. Troubles and the loss of her children had hardened her; embittered by disappointment, for her married life, short as it was, had been singularly unhappy, she had come back to her father’s house a cold, resentful woman, who masked unhappiness under an air of languid indifference, and whose strong will and concealed love of power governed the whole household. “Adelaide manages us all,” Miss Cheriton would say, laughing, and I used to wonder if she ever rebelled against her sister’s dictates. I knew the squire was like wax in the hands of his eldest daughter; he was one of those indolent, peace-loving men who are always governed by their womankind; his wife had ruled him, and now his widowed daughter held the reins. I think Gay was like her father; she went on her own way and shut her eyes to anything disagreeable. It would never have done for me to quarrel openly with Mrs. Markham; common sense and respect for my mistress’s sister kept me silent under great provocation. I controlled my words, and in some measure I controlled voice and outward manner, but my inward antagonism must have revealed itself now and then by an unguarded tone. My chief difficulty was to prevent her spoiling Joyce. After the first, she had become very fond of the child, and was always sending for her to the drawing-room, and loading her with toys and sweetmeats. Mr. Morton’s orders had been very stringent about sweetmeats, and again and again I was obliged to confiscate poor Joyce’s goodies as she called them. I had extracted from her a promise that she should eat nothing out of the nursery, and nothing could induce the child to disobey me. “Nurse says I mustn’t, Aunt Adda,” was her constant remark, and Mrs. Markham chose to consider herself aggrieved at this childish obstinacy. She spoke to me once about it with marked displeasure. “I have had children of my own, and I suppose I know what is good for them,” she said, with a touch of scorn in her voice; “you have no right to enforce such ridiculous rules on Joyce.” “I have Mrs. Morton’s orders,” I replied, curtly; “Dr. Myrtle told me to be very careful of Joyce’s diet; I cannot allow her to eat things I know will hurt her,” and I continued to confiscate the goodies.