son
her husband was not always to be sacrificed. It should not continue.
The little girls must not grow up to see their father put in the second
place, to think him an irritable tyrant. No, it must not continue, not
for a day.

And there occurred to Theo, when he approached the gate of Markland,
something like the same experience which had befallen Geoff. He saw
going slowly along the bare avenue two figures, clinging closely
together,--as he had seen them a hundred times, though never without
jealousy, when he had no right to interfere. For a long time these walks
had been intermitted, and he had almost forgotten the irritation of the
past in this respect. But now it all surged back with an exasperation
entirely out of proportion to the offence. For the offence was no more
than this: that Lady Markland was walking slowly along, with Geoff
clinging with both hands to her arm, clasping it, with his head almost
on her shoulder, with a sort of proprietorship which made the spectator
frantic. He stopped the dog-cart and sprang down, flinging the reins to
the groom outside of the gate. The sight brought his resolution, his
rage, the fierce passion within him, to a climax. Yes, he had been
anticipated; that was clear. The story of all that had passed had been
poured into his wife's ear. She would meet him with reproaches, perhaps
with tears, pointing to the cut on her son's forehead. There came into
Theo's mind a maddening recollection that he himself had been cut on
the forehead for Geoff; but no one, not _she_ at least, would remember
that now. She would meet him furious, like a tigress for her cub; or,
worse, she would meet him magnanimous, forgiving him, telling him that
she knew it must have been an accident--whereas it was no accident. He
would make no pretence; he would allow that he had done it, he would
allow that he had meant to do it; he would make no further pretences,
and tolerate no pretences from this day.

In his anger he was as swift and light as a deer. Their backs were
turned towards him, and they were too much absorbed in their talk to
hear his approach. He was close to them, on Lady Markland's other side,
before they heard anything. The mother and son looked up simultaneously,
and started as if they were but one being. At the sight of him she gave
a faint cry,--"Theo!"--and he unclasped her arm and slid from her in a
moment: which, though it was what he wished, made the fire burn still
higher in Warrend