he would shed tears over a pitiful story of want, and without shadow of
hypocrisy. It was hard, it was cruel; such things oughtn't to be allowed
in a world where there were so many rich people. The next day she would
argue with her charwoman about halfpence, and end by paying the poor
creature what she knew was inadequate and unjust. For the simplest
reason: she hadn't more to give, without submitting to privations which
she considered intolerable.

But whilst she could be a positive hyena to strangers, to those who were
akin to her, and those of whom she was fond, her affectionate kindness
was remarkable. One observes this peculiarity often enough; it reminds
one how savage the social conflict is, in which those little groups of
people stand serried against their common enemies; relentless to all
others, among themselves only the more tender and zealous because of
the ever-impending danger. No mother was ever more devoted. Her son, a
gentleman of quite noteworthy selfishness, had board and lodging beneath
her roof on nominal terms, and under no stress of pecuniary trouble had
Mrs Yule called upon him to make the slightest sacrifice on her behalf.
Her daughter she loved with profound tenderness, and had no will that
was opposed to Amy's. And it was characteristic of her that her children
were never allowed to understand of what baseness she often became
guilty in the determination to support appearances. John Yule naturally
suspected what went on behind the scenes; on one occasion--since Amy's
marriage--he had involuntarily overheard a dialogue between his mother
and a servant on the point of departing which made even him feel
ashamed. But from Amy every paltriness and meanness had always been
concealed with the utmost care; Mrs Yule did not scruple to lie
heroically when in danger of being detected by her daughter.

Yet this energetic lady had no social ambitions that pointed above her
own stratum. She did not aim at intimacy with her superiors; merely at
superiority among her intimates. Her circle was not large, but in that
circle she must be regarded with the respect due to a woman of refined
tastes and personal distinction. Her little dinners might be of rare
occurrence, but to be invited must be felt a privilege. 'Mrs Edmund
Yule' must sound well on people's lips; never be the occasion of those
peculiar smiles which she herself was rather fond of indulging at the
mention of other people's names.

The question of