Mrs.Fowler liked Gabriella, she was fond of her--and nobody could look in the girl's face and not see that she was a fine woman--but there were times, and this was one of them, when she thought her a little hard.

Had Gabriella wept, had she raged, had she threatened Florrie's life or happiness, it might have been painful, but at least it would have been human; and above all things Mrs.Fowler felt that she liked women to be human.
"Nothing that anybody says or does can excuse George," said Patty sternly.

"He has behaved abominably, and if I were Gabriella, I'd simply wash my hands of him.

I don't care if he is my brother, that doesn't make me blind, does it?
If he were my husband," she concluded passionately, "I'd feel just the same way about it." "Oh, you mustn't! Oh, Patty, hush, it's wicked! It's sinful!" moaned Mrs.Fowler, shutting her eyes, as if the sight of Patty's indignant loveliness gave her a headache.

"Don't try to harden Gabriella's heart against him.