She was over forty years old and looked over fifty, though she retained the air of distinction which Marjorie had derived from her; but her looks belied her, and she had not one tithe of the subtlety and keenness of her daughter.

She was, in fact, more suited to be wife to her husband than mother to her daughter.
"You have come about the maid," she said instantly, with disconcerting penetration and frankness.

"Well, I know no more than you.

She will tell me nothing but what she has told you.

She has some fiddle-faddle in her head, as maids will, but she will have her way with us, I suppose." She drew her needle through the piece of embroidery which she permitted to herself for an hour on Sundays, knotted the thread and bit it off.
Then she regarded her husband.
"I....