It was from the mother's side, then, that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted him--it may be to drink--to a false sense of honor--to herself: Harry being her slave instead of her master.

And the other men around her--so far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips straighten)--were no better.

Even Uncle George must take her own "No" for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing.

And once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she had become entangled, and once more would she cry herself to sleep.
Nobody but her old black mammy knew how tragic had been her sufferings, how many bitter hours she had passed, nor how many bitter tears she had shed.

Yet even old Henny could not comfort her, nor was there any one else to whom the girl could pour out her heart.