"It is. The sooner you get rid of her the better."
"That's easier said than done."
When Lord Hartledon reached the drawing-room, the dowager was sleeping comfortably. Looking about for his wife, he found her in the small room Maude used to make exclusively her own, which was not lighted up. She was standing at the window, and her tears were quietly falling. He drew her face to his own.
"My darling, don't let it grieve you! We shall soon right it all."
"Oh, Percival, if the mischief should have gone too far!—if they should never look upon me except as a step-mother! You don't know how sick and troubled this has made me feel! I wanted to go to them in the nursery when I came up, and did not dare! Perhaps the nurse has also been prejudiced against me!"
"Come up with me now, love," he whispered.
They went silently upstairs, and found the children were then in bed and asleep. They were tired with sight-seeing, the nurse said apologetically, curtseying to her new mistress.
The nurse withdrew, and they stood over the nursery fire, talking. Anne could scarcely account for the extreme depression the event seemed to have thrown upon her. Lord Hartledon quickly recovered his spirits, vowing he should like to "serve out" the dowager.
"I was thankful for one thing, Val; that you did not betray anger to them, poor little things. It would have made it worse."
"I was on the point of betraying something more than anger to Edward; but the thought that I should be punishing him for another's fault checked me. I wonder how we can get rid of her?"