chaise.

So I described the scene which had shocked Milly and me, an hour or so ago,
in the Windmill Wood.

'You see, my dear child, they are rough persons; their ideas are not ours;
their young people must be chastised, and in a way and to a degree that we
would look upon in a serious light. I've found it a bad plan interfering in
strictly domestic misunderstandings, and should rather not.'

'But he struck her violently on the head, uncle, with a heavy cudgel, and
she was bleeding very fast.'

'Ah?' said my uncle, dryly.

'And only that Milly and I deterred him by saying that we would certainly
tell you, he would have struck her again; and I really think if he goes on
treating her with so much violence and cruelty he may injure her seriously,
or perhaps kill her.'

'Why, you romantic little child, people in that rank of life think
absolutely nothing of a broken head,' answered Uncle Silas, in the same
way.

'But is it not horrible brutality, uncle?'

'To be sure it is brutality; but then you must remember they are brutes,
and it suits them,' said he.

I was disappointed. I had fancied that Uncle Silas's gentle nature would