He changed the conversation then. But Mavis knew he had been speaking of himself, and that the young girls he had mentioned had been his own children, and her heart was too full of sympathy for words. Silently, she walked along by his side, till they overtook Rose. When Max created a diversion by coming close to her and shaking the water from his shaggy coat, thus treating her to an unexpected shower-bath. "Oh, Max, you need not have done that!" cried Rose, laughing merrily, whilst the Vicar admonished his favourite too. But Max was far too excited to heed reproof. He kept Rose employed in flinging sticks and stones for him to fetch, until the back entrance to the mill was reached, where the little girls said good-bye to the Vicar, and the dog followed his master home. The next few weeks dragged somewhat for Mavis. But she went about with a radiant light in her eyes and joy in her heart. Would her mother come to her immediately on landing? she wondered. Oh, she would come as soon as she possibly could, of that she was sure. "I expect she wants me just as badly as I want her," she reflected, "for we have been parted for nine months, and that's a long, long time—though, of course, it might have been longer still." So the May days slipped by, and it was mid-June when, one afternoon, on returning from school, the little girls were met at the front door by Mrs. John, who looked at Mavis with the kindest of smiles on her face. "You have heard from mother!" cried Mavis, before her aunt had time to speak. "Has the vessel arrived? Have you had a telegram or a letter?" "Neither," Mrs. John answered; "but the vessel has arrived, and there's some one in the parlour waiting for you, Mavis. Go to her, my dear." Mavis needed no second bidding. She darted across the hall and rushed into the parlour, where, the next moment, she found herself in her mother's arms, and clasped to her mother's breast. "Mother—mother, at last—at last!" was all she could say. "Yes, at last, my darling," responded the dearly loved voice. Then they kissed each other again and again, and Mavis saw that her mother was looking remarkably well. And Mrs. Grey remarked that her little daughter had grown, and was the plumper and rosier for her sojourn in the country. It was a long while before Mavis could think of any one but themselves. But at last, she inquired for Miss Dawson, and heard that her mother had left her in her own home in London that morning. "I expect she's glad to be back again, isn't she, mother?" Mavis asked. "Very glad, dear. You can imagine the joyful meeting between her and her father. I shall never forget the thankfulness of his face when he saw how bright and well she was looking. Poor man, I believe he had made up his mind that he would never see her again. She does not require a nurse now, but I have promised to stay with her for a few months longer, and during that time, Mavis, I want you to remain at the Mill House. Shall you mind?"