'The nurse, I mean, whose name is Mrs. Marley. It must be confessed that she is a vulgar woman.'
'You know her?' His hand shook. He set down his hat and took up his gold-edged glasses.
'Not at all. I judge by results. The girl has fallen so completely under her thraldom that she has come to regard her almost in the light of a mother. It speaks well for her heart, but ill for your judgment. I can quite understand the power over her gained by a woman who attended her in her childish ailments, who dressed her dolls, and put her hair in curlpapers. But although we must admire the quality of Winefred's heart in clinging to this individual, one can do no other than lament that the attachment has been so close between persons so different in rank. Contact, and that so intimate, with one of an inferior quality has had a deteriorating effect. It has imparted a rustical flavour to the speech, mind, and manner of your child. Young characters are given shape and bias at an early age, and from their associates. Pardon my asking such a question, but have you married again?'
'No.'
Mr. Holwood put his eyeglass to his lips, breathed on it, then produced a silk kerchief and wiped it.
He did not notice, in his nervous distress, how steadily and searchingly the eye of Sylvana was fixed upon him.
'I can give you an illustration of the manner in which that female has gained power over the girl. Winefred will not allow the most trifling remark to be made in disparagement of her. She has even taken me to task, and has threatened to leave should I let slip a word to her disadvantage.'
'Ah! yes.'
'When she refers to that individual, she has spoken of her on more than one occasion as her mother. This is reprehensible, and a practice that must be abandoned.'
'Oh! yes—yes!'