Every time Mr. Redmain had an attack, the baldness on the top of
his head widened, and the skin of his face tightened on his
small, neat features; his long arms looked longer; his formerly
flat back rounded yet a little; and his temper grew yet more
curiously spiteful. Long after he had begun to recover, he was by
no means an agreeable companion. Nevertheless, as if at last,
though late in the day, she must begin to teach her daughter the
duty of a married woman, from the moment he arrived, taken ill on
the way, Lady Malice, regardless of the brusqueness with which he
treated her from the first, devoted herself to him with an
attention she had never shown her husband. She was the only one
who manifested any appearance of affection for him, and the only
one of the family for whom, in return, he came to show the least
consideration. Rough he was, even to her, but never, except when
in absolute pain, rude as to everybody in the house besides. At
times, one might have almost thought he stood in some little awe
of her. Every night, after his man was gone, she would visit him
to see that he was left comfortable, would tuck him up as his
mother might have done, and satisfy herself that the night-light
was shaded from his eyes. With her own hands she always arranged
his breakfast on the tray, nor never omitted taking him a basin
of soup before he got up; and, whatever he may have concluded
concerning her motives, he gave no sign of imagining them other
than generous.
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