Marcella noticed that she greeted none of the old people, nor they her.

And as for Mrs.Hurd, as soon as she saw the keeper's wife, she turned her back abruptly on her visitor, and walked to the other end of the kitchen.
"Are you comin', mother ?" repeated Isabella.
Mrs.Jellison grumbled, gibed at her, and made long leave-takings, while the daughter stood silent, waiting, and every now and then peering at Marcella, who had never seen her before.
"I don' know where yur manners is," said Mrs.Jellison sharply to her, as though she had been a child of ten, "that you don't say good evenin' to the young lady." Mrs.Westall curtsied low, and hoped she might be excused, as it had grown so dark.

Her tone was smooth and servile, and Marcella disliked her as she shook hands with her.
The other old people, including Mrs.Brunt, departed a minute or two after the mother and daughter, and Marcella was left an instant with Mrs.Hurd.
"Oh, thank you, thank you kindly, miss," said Mrs.Hurd, raising her apron to her eyes to staunch some irrepressible tears, as Marcella showed her the advertisement which it might possibly be worth Hurd's while to answer.

"He'll try, you may be sure.

But I can't think as how anythink 'ull come ov it." And then suddenly, as though something unexplained had upset her self-control, the poor patient creature utterly broke down.