Her married life had been a martyrdom.

Naturally the children had all taken her side in the quarrel, and Lord Alfred Douglas, her especial favourite, had practically identified himself with her, which explains to some extent, though nothing can justify, the unnatural animosity of his letter.

The letter showed me that the quarrel was far deeper, far bitterer than I had imagined--one of those dreadful family quarrels, where the intimate knowledge each has of the other whips anger to madness.

All I could do was to warn Oscar.
"It's the old, old story," I said.

"You are putting your hand between the bark and the tree, and you will suffer for it." But he would not or could not see it.
"What is one to do with such a madman ?" he asked pitiably.
"Avoid him," I replied, "as you would avoid a madman, who wanted to fight with you; or conciliate him; there is nothing else to do." He would not be warned.