in unconsciousness. The mother was only
just able to break the violence of her fall. Having snatched a pillow
and placed it beneath Marian's head, she rushed to the door and called
loudly for her husband, who in a moment appeared.

'What is it?' she cried to him. 'Look, she has fallen down in a faint.
Why are you treating her like this?'

'Attend to her,' Yule replied roughly. 'I suppose you know better than I
do what to do when a person faints.'

The swoon lasted for several minutes.

'What's in the letter?' asked Mrs Yule whilst chafing the lifeless
hands.

'Her money's lost. The people who were to pay it have just failed.'

'She won't get anything?'

'Most likely nothing at all.'

The letter was a private communication from one of John Yule's
executors. It seemed likely that the demand upon Turberville & Co. for
an account of the deceased partner's share in their business had helped
to bring about a crisis in affairs that were already unstable. Something
might be recovered in the legal proceedings that would result, but there
were circumstances which made the outlook very doubtful.

As Marian came to herself her father left the room. An hour afterwards
Mrs Yule summoned him again to the girl's chamber; he went, and found
Marian lying on the bed, looking like one who had been long ill.

'I wish to ask you a few questions,' she said, without raising herself.
'Must my legacy necessarily be paid out of that investment?'

'It must. Those are the terms of the will.'

'If nothing can be recovered from those people, I have no remedy?'

'None whatever that I can see.'

'But when a firm is bankrupt they generally pay some portion of their
debts?'

'Sometimes. I know nothing of the case.'

'This of course happens to me,' Marian said, with intense bitterness.
'None of the other legatees will suffer, I suppose?'

'Someone must, but to a very small extent.'

'Of course. When shall I have direct information?'

'You can write to Mr Holden; you have his address.'

'Thank you. That's all.'

He was dismissed, and went quietly away.

PART FIVE

CHAPTER XXX. WAITING ON DESTINY

Throughout the day Marian kept her room. Her intention to leave the
house was, of course, abandoned; she was the prisoner of fate. Mrs Yule
would have tended her with unremitting devotion, but the girl desired to
be alone. At times she lay in silent anguish; frequently her tears broke
forth, and she sobbed until weariness o