The mill wheel was silent on this perfect autumn afternoon, as it usually was on Saturday afternoons, and everything was very still within the house, where all was in apple-pie order. For visitors were expected, and a substantial meal was awaiting them in the parlour. Whilst in the kitchen, the kettle was singing merrily, and Jane, the capable middle-aged maid-of-all-work, in a spotless gown and clean cap and apron, was moving noiselessly about, duster in hand, in search of a speck of dust which might have escaped her notice. "Everything's as clean as a new pin, and so it ought to be, seeing how I've slaved this day," she mused, her eyes wandering over the well-scrubbed table, the various shining tin and copper articles on the mantelpiece, and resting at length on the tall brass-faced clock which stood near the door. "Half-past four!" she exclaimed. "They ought to be here by this time." She opened the door as she spoke, and walked along a dark, narrow passage which led her into a stone-paved hall, flooded with sunshine which found entrance through a window at the right of the front door. Outside the front door, beneath the porch, stood a very little woman—the Mistress of the Mill House—shading her eyes with her hand, as she looked for the expected approach of a vehicle on the road which stretched before the house and led to Oxford. "Are they coming, ma'am?" Jane inquired, as she crossed the hall and joined her mistress. "The gig is not in sight yet," replied Mrs. Grey—or Mrs. John Grey, as we must call her, to distinguish her from Mavis' mother. In fact, she was generally known as Mrs. John. "The children are outside the gate; they are as excited as they usually are when we expect any one. I wonder what our visitors will be like. I don't think Mrs. Grey can have much heart, or she wouldn't have accepted this engagement to go to Australia. I know I could not endure to be parted from my children—and she has only one child. John has asked her to visit us on several occasions, but she has always found an excuse—generally that of work—for declining our invitations. Now she wants to make use of us, she can came to see us fast enough." Mrs. John spoke in an aggrieved tone. She was a fair-haired, blue-eyed little woman, who had held the post of useful help to a neighbouring farmer's wife previous to her marriage. She owned rather a sharp tongue and a jealous temper, but she was an affectionate wife and mother, and her husband and children loved her dearly. And it was she who, by her thrifty ways and good management, had helped to make the miller the well-to-do man he was to-day. Her unreserved manner of speaking to her servant was to be accounted for by the fact that Jane had lived at the Mill House before Mr. Grey had married, in his parents' lifetime, and was regarded more as a friend than a dependent.