'
'Perhaps it is.'
'I'll think it over.'
Mrs Yule silently left the room, and went back to her sewing.
She had understood that 'Though--' and the 'what can't be
helped.' Such allusions reminded her of a time unhappier than the
present, when she had been wont to hear plainer language. She
knew too well that, had she been a woman of education, her
daughter would not now be suffering from loneliness.
It was her own choice that she did not go with her husband and
Marian to John Yule's. She made an excuse that the house could
not be left to one servant; but in any case she would have
remained at home, for her presence must needs be an embarrassment
both to father and daughter. Alfred was always ashamed of her
before strangers; he could not conceal his feeling, either from
her or from other people who had reason for observing him. Marian
was not perhaps ashamed, but such companionship put restraint
upon her freedom. And would it not always be the same? Supposing
Mr Milvain were to come to this house, would it not repel him
when he found what sort of person Marian's mother was?
She shed a few tears over her needlework.
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