It was the inward assurance of her independence: the young spinster's planting of the standard of her proud secret knowledge of what she is, let it be a thing of worth or what you will, or the world think as it may.

That was her thought.
Her feeling, the much livelier animation, was bitter grief, because her mistress, unlike herself, had been betrayed by her ignorance of the man into calling him husband.

Just some knowledge of the man! The warning to the rescue might be there.

For nothing did the dear lady weep except for her brother's evil fortune.

The day when she had intelligence from Mrs.
Levellier of her brother's defeat, she wept over the letter on her knees long hours.