about your mother. It 's a caution, the way he hates her."
Sir Claude gave a short laugh. "It certainly can't beat the way she still hates him!"
"Well," Mrs. Beale went on obligingly, "nothing can take the place of that feeling with either of them, and the best way they can think of to show it is for each to leave you as long as possible on the hands of the other. There 's nothing, as you 've seen for yourself, that makes either so furious. It is n't, asking so little as you do, that you 've much of an expense or a trouble; it 's only that you make each feel so well how nasty the other wants to be. Therefore Beale goes on loathing your mother too much to have any great fury left for any one else. Besides, you know, I 've squared him."
"Oh Lord!" Sir Claude cried with a louder laugh and turning again to the window.
"I know how!" Maisie was prompt to return. "By letting him do what he wants on condition that he lets you also do it."
"You 're too delicious, my own pet!"—she was involved in another hug. "How in the world have I got on so long without you? I've not been happy, love," said Mrs. Beale with her cheek to the child's.
