She had never known her father to possess so much as five golden sovereigns at his own disposal (unencumbered by debt) in all her experience of him.

The atmosphere in which she had lived and breathed was the all-stifling one of genteel poverty.

There was something horrible in the greedy eagerness of her eyes as they watched Lady Janet, to see if she was really sufficiently in earnest to give away five hundred pounds sterling with a stroke of her pen.
Lady Janet wrote t he check in a few seconds, and pushed it across the table.
Grace's hungry eyes devoured the golden line, "Pay to myself or bearer five hundred pounds," and verified the signature beneath, "Janet Roy." Once sure of the money whenever she chose to take it, the native meanness of her nature instantly asserted itself.

She tossed her head, and let the check lie on the table, with an overacted appearance of caring very little whether she took it or not.
"Your ladyship is not to suppose that I snap at your check," she said.
Lady Janet leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

The very sight of Grace Roseberry sickened her.