"You know I would not for a moment presume to interfere with the Bank, but"-- here she deployed her whole force,--"the lad's youth and folly; his previous good character, guaranteed by Dunn, who knows men; his glorious game--no man who wasn't straight could play such a game!--the large chance of his innocence, the small chance of his guilt; the hide-bound rigidity of lawyers and bank managers, dominated by mere rules and routine, in contrast with the open-minded independence of her uncle; the boy's utter helplessness; his own father having been ready to believe the worst,--just think of it, Uncle, his own father thinking of himself and of his family name--much he has ever done for his family name!--and not of his own boy, and"-- here Miss Brodie's voice took a lower key--"and his mother died some five or six years ago, when he was thirteen or fourteen, and I know, you know, that is hard on a boy." In spite of herself, and to her disgust, a tremor came into her voice and a rush of tears to her eyes.
Her uncle was smitten with dismay.

Only on one terrible occasion since she had emerged from her teens had he seen his niece in tears.

The memory of that terrible day swept over his soul.

Something desperate was doing.

Hard as the little man was to the world against which he had fought his way to his present position of distinction, to his niece he was soft-hearted as a mother.