My darling! How could I help it?
And he scolded me because there was none other but he.

He will turn me out altogether now.

Oh, Mrs.Clavering, you do not know how hard he is." Anything was better than this, and therefore Mrs.Clavering asked the poor woman to take her into the room where the little body lay in its little cot.

If she could induce the mother to weep for the child, even that would be better than this hard, persistent fear as to what her husband would say and do.

So they both went and stood together over the little fellow whose short sufferings had thus been brought to an end.
"My poor dear, what can I say to comfort you ?" Mrs.Clavering, as she asked this, knew well that no comfort could be spoken in words; but-if she could only make the sufferer weep! "Comfort!" said the mother.