I hope very much that you will allow Mildred to accept Lady Sarah's invitation, _she wrote_, for I believe the friendship which has grown up between them will be of mutual benefit. Lady Sarah has an unfortunate manner, but I have always believed in her warmth of heart, and she has fallen deeply in love with your dear, bright girl. They were not at all good friends at first, as you will doubtless have heard, but circumstances have drawn them together, and I can see that each is already beginning to exercise a beneficial influence over the character of the other. Mildred's sunshiny influence is smoothing the wrinkles from the poor old lady's face, and the knowledge that one so old and frail relies upon her for comfort, will, I am sure, overcome the temptation to hastiness which she is ever bemoaning. I don't wonder at Lady Sarah's infatuation, for we are all in love with the dear child. She has been the life of our quiet house. I hope we may see much of her in the future. Mrs Moore received this letter, and the invitation which accompanied it, one hot afternoon as she sat in the fever room with her patient. Robbie was an invalid no longer, except in name--he was up and clothed and in his right mind; able to amuse himself by painting frescoes on the wall, and to scrub his obstinate little heels with pumice stone, after the morning and evening baths. Mrs Moore read her letters through once, twice, and yet again; then she laid them down upon the table, took her handkerchief from her pocket, and very quietly and deliberately began to cry. She was a merry little mother as a rule, in spite of her anxieties, and had played the mountebank for Robbie's benefit with such success during the last few weeks, that he was aghast at the sudden change of mood. He gave a roar like a wounded bull, and rushing forward, burrowed his head on her knee. "Don't ky! don't ky!" he cried, "I'll never do it again! never do it again!" for conscience pricked concerning a dozen mischievous freaks, and he was convinced that it was his own wickedness which had brought about this outburst of distress. His mother seized him by the arm and stared into his face with eager eyes. She was the prettiest little mother in the world, and Mildred did well to be proud of her. "Robbie!" she cried excitedly, "am I a good mother? Have I been kind to you? Do you love me with all your heart?" Robbie pranced about in an agony of emotion. "Boo--hoo--hoo! Yes, I does! Boo--hoo--" "And supposing a rich old lady came one day--very, very rich, Robbie-- with houses, and gardens, and carriages, and horses, and ponies-- beautiful little, long-tailed ponies, and she said, `Come and live with me, Robbie, and be my own little boy?' What would you say? Would you go away and leave poor Mother all alone?" "No--ow--ow! Don't wants no old ladies! Kick a nasty old pony over the wall!"