interchange
of words. But when Yule was pushing back his chair, Marian--who looked
pale and ill--addressed a question to him about the work she would
ordinarily have pursued to-day at the Reading-room. He answered in a
matter-of-fact tone, and for a few minutes they talked on the subject
much as at any other time. Half an hour after, Marian set forth for the
Museum in the usual way. Her father stayed at home.

It was the end of the episode for the present. Marian felt that the
best thing would be to ignore what had happened, as her father evidently
purposed doing. She had asked his forgiveness, and it was harsh in him
to have repelled her; but by now she was able once more to take into
consideration all his trials and toils, his embittered temper and the
new wound he had received. That he should resume his wonted manner was
sufficient evidence of regret on his part. Gladly she would have unsaid
her resentful words; she had been guilty of a childish outburst of
temper, and perhaps had prepared worse sufferings for the future.

And yet, perhaps it was as well that her father should be warned. She
was not all submission, he might try her beyond endurance; there might
come a day when perforce she must stand face to face with him, and make
it known she had her own claims upon life. It was as well he should hold
that possibility in view.

This evening no work was expected of her. Not long after dinner she
prepared for going out; to her mother she mentioned she should be back
about ten o'clock.

'Give my kind regards to them, dear--if you like to,' said Mrs Yule just
above her breath.

'Certainly I will.'

CHAPTER XIV. ECRUITS

Marian walked to the nearest point of Camden Road, and there waited for
an omnibus, which conveyed her to within easy reach of the street where
Maud and Dora Milvain had their lodgings. This was at the north-east of
Regent's Park, and no great distance from Mornington Road, where Jasper
still dwelt.

On learning that the young ladies were at home and alone, she ascended
to the second floor and knocked.

'That's right!' exclaimed Dora's pleasant voice, as the door opened and
the visitor showed herself And then came the friendly greeting which
warmed Marian's heart, the greeting which until lately no house in
London could afford her.

The girls looked oddly out of place in this second-floor sitting-room,
with its vulgar furniture and paltry ornaments. Maud especially so, for
her fine fi