For all her gentleness and sensibility, there was much practical directness about Mildred Malloring; for her, a page turned was a page turned, an idea absorbed was never disgorged; she was of religious temperament, ever trimming her course down the exact channel marked out with buoys by the Port Authorities, and really incapable of imagining spiritual wants in others that could not be satisfied by what satisfied herself.

And this pathetic strength she had in common with many of her fellow creatures in every class.

Sitting down at the writing-table from which she had been disturbed, she leaned her thin, rather long, gentle, but stubborn face on her hand, thinking.
These Gaunts were a source of irritation in the parish, a kind of open sore.

It would be better if they could be got rid of before quarter day, up to which she had weakly said they might remain.

Far better for them to go at once, if it could be arranged.