She never dared even to ask a question.
"Captain Lennox and his wife died of the cholera," Mr.Craven had said in his short, cold way.

"Captain Lennox was my wife's brother and I am their daughter's guardian.

The child is to be brought here.

You must go to London and bring her yourself." So she packed her small trunk and made the journey.
Mary sat in her corner of the railway carriage and looked plain and fretful.

She had nothing to read or to look at, and she had folded her thin little black-gloved hands in her lap.