compelled and obedience lawfully won; to infants and little children
Phillis was always very tender--nay, passionately loving.

As she was to Oliver, who, wakening at the storm in the nursery, took
to sleepy crying, and was immediately lulled in her arms with the
fondest soothing; the fiercest threatenings between whiles being
directed to Letitia and Arthur, until they both slunk off to bed, sullen
and silent--at war with one another, with Phillis, and with the whole
world.

But children's woes are transient. By-and-by Titia's fretful face settled
into sleepy peace; the angry flush melted from Arthur's hot cheeks;
Oliver had already been transferred to his crib; and Phillis settled
herself to her sewing, queen regnant of the silent nursery.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the ghostly gallery, sat, over the dining-
room fire, the two other rulers, guardians, and guides of these three
children--"the aunts"--Miss Gascoigne and Miss Grey; for these ladies
still remained at the Lodge. Dr. Grey had asked Christian if she
wished them to leave, for they had a house of their own near
Avonsbridge, and she had answered indifferently, "Oh no; let them do
as they like." As she liked did not seem to enter into her thoughts.
Alas! that sacred dual solitude, which most young wives naturally and
rightfully desire, was no vital necessity to Christian Grey.

So the two ladies, who had come to the Lodge when their sister died,
had declared their intention of remaining there, at least for the present,
"for the sake of those poor, dear children." And, dressed in at their
best, they sat solemnly waiting the arrival of the children's father and
step-mother--"that young woman," as they always spoke of her in