'Why the deuce he should have left you so much in any case is
more than I can understand,' growled her brother. 'What's the use
to me of a paltry thousand or two? It isn't enough to invest;
isn't enough to do anything with.'
'You may depend upon it your cousin Marian thinks her five
thousand good for something,' said Mrs Yule. 'Who was at the
funeral? Don't be so surly, Jack; tell us all about it. I'm sure
if anyone has cause to be ill-tempered it's poor me.'
Thus they talked, amid the rattle of the cab-wheels. By when they
reached home silence had fallen upon them, and each one was
sufficiently occupied with private thoughts.
Mrs Yule's servants had a terrible time of it for the next few
days. Too affectionate to turn her ill-temper against John and
Amy, she relieved herself by severity to the domestic slaves, as
an English matron is of course justified in doing. Her daughter's
position caused her even more concern than before; she constantly
lamented to herself: 'Oh, why didn't he die before she was
married!'--in which case Amy would never have dreamt of wedding a
penniless author.
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