A letter from Dora in the first week of March made announcement that the 'Child's History of the English Parliament' would be published very shortly; it told her, too, that Mrs Milvain had been very ill indeed, but that she seemed to recover a little strength as the weather improved.

Of Jasper there was no mention.
A week later came the news that Mrs Milvain had suddenly died.
This letter was received at breakfast-time.

The envelope was an ordinary one, and so little did Marian anticipate the nature of its contents that at the first sight of the words she uttered an exclamation of pain.
Her father, who had turned from the table to the fireside with his newspaper, looked round and asked what was the matter.
'Mrs Milvain died the day before yesterday.' 'Indeed!' He averted his face again and seemed disposed to say no more.

But in a few moments he inquired: 'What are her daughters likely to do ?' 'I have no idea.' 'Do you know anything of their circumstances ?' 'I believe they will have to depend upon themselves.' Nothing more was said.

Afterwards Mrs Yule made a few sympathetic inquiries, but Marian was very brief in her replies.
Ten days after that, on a Sunday afternoon when Marian and her mother were alone in the sitting-room, they heard the knock of a visitor at the front door.