had behaved
himself so far in his journey through life more creditably than his
brother. She had always made a point against him of his undutiful
marriage, and never failed, to add fuel to the fire of his father's and
mother's resentment about it, whenever that fire seemed to burn low.

Altogether, she was by no means an amiable old lady, and, being very
hideous into the bargain, was not much run after by society generally.
She wasn't of the least consequence in any way, being not only old but
very poor; yet people dreaded her, and would slip away round doors and
corners to avoid her tongue. She succeeded, in spite of all drawbacks,
in making herself felt; and it was only one or two impervious beings,
such is Dicky Browne for example (who knew the Monktons well, and was
indeed distantly connected with them through his mother), who could
endure her manners with any attempt at equanimity.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

"Strength wanting judgment and policy to rule overturneth itself."

It was quite impossible, of course, that a first visit to Lady Monkton
should be a last from Barbara. Lady Monkton had called on her the very
day after her arrival in town, but Barbara had been out then. On the
occasion of the latter's return visit the old woman had explained that
going out was a trial to her, and Barbara, in spite of her unconquerable
dislike to her, had felt it to be her duty to go and see her now and
then. The children, too, had been a great resource. Sir George,
especially, had taken to Tommy, who was quite unabashed by the grandeur
of the stately, if faded, old rooms in the Belgravian mansion, but was
full of curiosity, and spent his visits to his grandfather
cross-examining him about divers matters--questionable and
otherwise--that tickled the old man and kept him laughing.

It had struck Barbara that Sir George had left off laughing for some
time. He looked haggard--uneasy--miserably expectant. She liked him
better than she liked Lady Monkton, and, though reserved with both,
relaxed more to him than to her mother-in-law. For one thing, Sir George
had been unmistakably appreciative of her beauty, and her soft voice and
pretty manners. He liked them all. Lady Monkton had probably noticed
them quite as keenly, but they had not pleased her. They were indeed an
offence. They had placed her in the wrong. As for old Miss L'Estrange,
the aunt, she regarded the young wife from the first with a dislike she
took no pains t