He had shown himself hopelessly lacking in good taste, and good feeling, but then she had never supposed that he had these things.

At the same time the last support seemed to have been removed from her; it might well be that her Aunt Anne would not care for her and would not wish to have her in her house.

What should she do then?
Whither should she go?
She flung up her head and looked bravely into the face of Ellen, the cook, who came to remove the breakfast, but she had to bite her lip to keep back the tears that WOULD come and fill her eyes so that the world was misty and obscure.
There was, she fancied, something strange about Ellen.

In HER eyes some obscure triumph or excitement, some scorn and derision, Maggie fancied, of herself.

Had the woman been drinking?
...
Then there arrived Mr.Brassy, her father's solicitor, from Cator Hill.
He had been often in the house, a short fat man with a purple face, clothes of a horsy cut, and large, red, swollen fingers.