In the midst of it, Edward left his sofa and walked up to the group and their beads.  He was very weak, and tottered unintentionally against Anne.  The touch destroyed her equilibrium, and she fell into Maude’s lap.  There was no damage done, but the box of beads was upset on to the carpet.  Maude screamed at the loss of her treasures, rose up with anger, and slapped Anne.  The child cried out.

“Why d’you hit her?” cried Reginald.  “It was Edward’s fault; he pushed her.”

“What’s that!” exclaimed Edward.  “My fault!  I’ll teach you to say that,” and he struck Reginald a tingling slap on the cheek.

Of course there was loud crying.  The dowager looked on with a red face.  Lady Margaret Cooper, who had no children of her own, stopped her ears.  Lady Laura laid her hand on her sister-in law’s wrist.

“And you can witness these scenes, and not check them!  You are changed, indeed, Anne!”

“If I interfere to protect my children, I am checked and prevented,” replied Lady Hartledon, with quivering lips.  “This scene is nothing to what we have sometimes.”

“Who checks you—­Val?”

“The dowager.  But he does not interpose for me.  Where the children are concerned, he tacitly lets her have sway.  It is not often anything of this sort takes place in his presence.”

The noise continued:  all the children seemed to be fighting together.  Anne went forward and drew her own two out of the fray.

“Pray send those two screamers to the nursery, Lady Hartledon,” cried the dowager.

“I cannot think why they are allowed in the drawing-room at all,” said Lady Margaret, addressing no one in particular, unless it was the ceiling.  “Edward and Maude would be quiet enough without them.”

Anne did not retort:  she only glanced at her husband, silent reproach on her pale face, and took up Anne in her arms to carry her from the room.  But Lady Laura, impulsive and warm, came forward and stopped the exit.

“Lady Kirton, I am ashamed of you!  Margaret, I am ashamed of you!  I am ashamed of you all.  You are doing the children a lasting injury, and you are guilty of cruel insult to Lady Hartledon.  This is the second scene I have been a witness to, when the elder children were encouraged to behave badly to the younger; the first was in the nursery this morning; and I have been here only a few hours.  And you, Lord Hartledon, their head and father, responsible for your children’s welfare, can tamely sit by, and suffer it, and see your wife insulted!  Is this what you married Anne Ashton for?”

Lord Hartledon rose:  a strange look of pain on his features.  “You are mistaken, Laura.  I wish every respect to be shown to my wife; respect from all.  Anne knows it.”

“Respect!” scornfully retorted Lady Laura.  “When you do not give her so much as a voice in her own house; when you allow her children to be trampled on, and beaten—­beaten, sir—­and she dare not interfere!  I blush for you, and could never have believed you would so behave to your wife.  Who are you, madam,” turning again, in her anger, on the countess-dowager, “and who are you, Margaret, that you should dare to encourage Edward and Maude in rebellion against their present mother?”