Midway in the morning, when it was still necessary to use
artificial light, she went down to the sitting-room. The course
of household life had been thrown into confusion by the disasters
of the last day or two; Mrs Yule, who occupied herself almost
exclusively with questions of economy, cleanliness, and routine,
had not the heart to pursue her round of duties, and this
morning, though under normal circumstances she would have been
busy in 'turning out' the dining-room, she moved aimlessly and
despondently about the house, giving the servant contradictory
orders and then blaming herself for her absent-mindedness. In the
troubles of her husband and her daughter she had scarcely greater
share--so far as active participation went--than if she had been
only a faithful old housekeeper; she could only grieve and lament
that such discord had come between the two whom she loved, and
that in herself was no power even to solace their distresses.
Marian found her standing in the passage, with a duster in one
hand and a hearth-brush in the other.
'Your father has asked to see you when you come down,' Mrs Yule
whispered.
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