who has pity on one's loneliness.

Unfortunately, Alfred Yule was not so grateful as he might have been.
His marriage proved far from unsuccessful; he might have found himself
united to a vulgar shrew, whereas the girl had the great virtues of
humility and kindliness. She endeavoured to learn of him, but her
dulness and his impatience made this attempt a failure; her human
qualities had to suffice. And they did, until Yule began to lift his
head above the literary mob. Previously, he often lost his temper with
her, but never expressed or felt repentance of his marriage; now he
began to see only the disadvantages of his position, and, forgetting the
facts of the case, to imagine that he might well have waited for a wife
who could share his intellectual existence. Mrs Yule had to pass through
a few years of much bitterness. Already a martyr to dyspepsia, and often
suffering from bilious headaches of extreme violence, her husband now
and then lost all control of his temper, all sense of kind feeling,
even of decency, and reproached the poor woman with her ignorance, her
stupidity, her low origin. Naturally enough she defended herself with
such weapons as a sense of cruel injustice supplied. More than once
the two all but parted. It did not come to an actual rupture, chiefly
because Yule could not do without his wife; her tendance had become
indispensable. And then there was the child to consider.

From the first it was Yule's dread lest Marian should be infected with
her mother's faults of speech and behaviour. He would scarcely permit
his wife to talk to the child. At the earliest possible moment Marian
was sent to a day-school, and in her tenth year she went as weekly
boarder to an establishment at Fulham; any sacrifice of money to insure
her growing up with the tongue and manners of a lady. It can scarcely
have been a light trial to the mother to know that contact with her was
regarded as her child's greatest danger; but in her humility and her
love for Marian she offered no resistance. And so it came to pass
that one day the little girl, hearing her mother make some flagrant
grammatical error, turned to the other parent and asked gravely: 'Why
doesn't mother speak as properly as we do?' Well, that is one of the
results of such marriages, one of the myriad miseries that result from
poverty.

The end was gained at all hazards. Marian grew up everything that her
father desired. Not only had she the bearing of refinemen