In the midst of her fancy-work (those busy fingers were never idle) she kept her eyes well fixed on him.

Now and again I saw him glance at his motherless girls with what looked like a tender, protecting regret; especially when "Clara" had been most openly drilling them; but he dared not interfere.

She was crushing their spirit, as she was crushing their father's--and all, 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.