She could not afford the luxury of hating--openly, at least.

But I imagine she would have hated Mary heartily could she have seen the way she regarded her--the look of pitiful love, of compassionate and waiting helpfulness which her soul would now and then cast upon her.

Of all things she would have resented pity; and she took Mary's readiness to help for servility--and naturally, seeing in herself willingness came from nothing else, though she called it prudence and necessity, and knew no shame because of it.
Her children justify the heavenly wisdom, but the worldly wisdom justifies her children.

Mary could not but feel how Sepia regarded her service, but service, to be true, must be divine, that is, to the just and the unjust, like the sun and the rain.
Between Sepia and Mr.Redmain continued a distance too great for either difference or misunderstanding.

They met with a cold good morning, and parted without any good night.