Here she was wrong, for the cheque was immediately returned. Mrs.
Mallett and her daughter were able to support themselves without help.

'Then we need think no more about them,' Caroline said, concealing her
annoyance, 'and I shall be able to afford a new dinner dress. Black
sequins, I thought, Sophia--and we must give a dinner for the Sales.'

'Caroline, no, you forget. We mustn't entertain for a little while.'

'Upon my word, I did forget. But it's no use pretending. It really
isn't quite like a death in the family, is it? Poor dear Reginald! I
was very fond of him, but half our friends believe he has been dead
for years. I shall wear black for three months, of course, but a
little dinner to the Sales would not be out of place. We have a duty
to the living as well as to the dead.'

Leaving her stepsisters to argue this point, Rose went upstairs and
looked into Reginald's old room. She had known very little of him, but
she was sorry he was dead, sorry there was no longer a chance of his
presence in the house, of meeting him on the stairs, very late for
breakfast and quite oblivious of the inconvenience he was causing, and
on his lips some remark which no one else would have made.

His room had not been occupied for some time, but it seemed emptier
than before; the mirror gave back a reflection of polished furniture
and vacancy; the bed looked smooth and cold enough for a corpse. No
personal possessions were strewn about, and the room itself felt
chilly.