The Keepers of the People

643Lady Hammersmith stood helpless, staring stupidly, utterly dumbfounded. It was indeed a fall: she the patroness of societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, children, and aborigines, the firm opponent of the cat for ruffians, had struck her own child. But, besides, a clamorous, strange feeling was beating at her heart — a feeling which could not find expression. She had most likely never in her life spoken a tender word to the child; and without the habit of tenderness, she could not cope with the situation. Presently, she came forward, but the bared teeth of Alrasch drove her hurriedly back. His opposition, however, restored to her her natural, maternal acerbity, and she said, “Come, Althea; you are not hurt so badly as all that. This is temper — wicked, depraved temper!”

644“Will you go away?” said Althea between her sobs. “I will never have anything to do with you again — you — you — unnatural parent!”

645Lady Hammersmith could find no words; then a clock struck, and she remembered a meeting. She hurried away, glad to escape, and salved her conscience by telling Miss Blayne to go to the child. But as she drove to the meeting the remembrance of the desolate little figure clinging to the dog kept coming into her mind, and prevented almost a proper consideration of the heads of her speech.

646Althea sobbed on for a while, then locked the door, bathed her face, and sat down in her easy chair, staring desolately before her. She could not think very clearly: the pain had been nothing, she would have endured ten times as much without wincing. But her pride had been grievously wounded: she, Althea Flodden had been struck, and every time the thought thrust itself afresh upon her, she quivered and flushed with a burning shame.

647Presently, she was distracted from her unhappy thoughts by a knock at the door; and Miss Blayne called to her to open. Althea set her lips, and gave no answer. Miss Blayne knocked again; then she knocked and knocked, and called and called; and after a while a glimmering smile broke through the trouble on Althea’s face. Miss Blayne went away; Althea went into her bedroom; and, having locked the door, undressed herself, and crept into bed. Miss Blayne came back with Althea’s maid, and they knocked, and called by turn. Then Miss Blayne grew frightened; remembered that Lady Hammersmith had seemed disturbed; and sent for the butler. But knocking and calling were of no avail. Little by little most of the household gathered round the door, and frightened themselves, and one another, by the ingenious suggestion of dreadful things that might have befallen the child. Althea listened to their growing clamour; and it brought some comfort to her outraged pride.