"No," Mavis answered, truthfully. "But you are not going right back to London, mother, are you?" she asked, looking somewhat dismayed. "No, dear. I have arranged to stay a few days with you." What a happy few days those were to Mavis! She was allowed a holiday from school, and showed her mother her favourite walks, and spent a long afternoon with her in Oxford, where they visited T— College and the haunts her father had loved. And oh how Mavis talked! There seemed to be no end to all she had to tell about the household at the Mill House, and the Vicar, and Richard Butt and his wife and baby, and kind Mrs. Long, to all of which her mother listened with the greatest interest and attention. "Why, how many friends you have made!" Mrs. Grey said, on one occasion when Mavis had been mentioning some of her schoolfellows. "You will be sorry to have to say good-bye to them; but I do not know when that will be, for I have not decided upon my future plans. I hope we shall never be parted for such a long time again." "Indeed I hope not," Mavis answered, fervently. "Shall we go back to live at Miss Tompkins'?" she inquired. "I don't know, dear," was the reply. "Perhaps we may—for a time." Every one at the Mill House was very sorry when Mrs. Grey left and returned to town. Her former visit had naturally been overshadowed by the prospect of separation from her little daughter. But this had indeed been a visit of unalloyed happiness, with no cloud of impending sorrow to mar its joy. After her mother's departure, Mavis went back to school with a very contented heart, and in another month came the summer holidays. Her feelings were very mixed when she learnt that it had been arranged for her to stay at W— until the end of another term, for Mr. Dawson had earnestly requested Mrs. Grey to remain with his daughter till Christmas, and she had consented to do so. And she expressed her sentiments to her aunt in the following words— "I'm glad, and I'm sorry, Aunt Lizzie. Glad, because I can't bear the thought of saying good-bye to you all, and sorry, because I do want mother so much sometimes. Still, London's quite near; it isn't as though mother was at the other end of the world, and time passes so quickly. Christmas will soon be here." * * * * * "I feel as though I must be dreaming," said Mavis, "but I suppose it's really, really true. I can hardly believe it." It was Christmas Eve, and a few days before the little girl had been brought up to town by her uncle, who had delivered her to her mother's care. To her surprise, however, she had not been taken to Miss Tompkins' dingy lodging-house, but to Mr. Dawson's house in Camden Square, where she had received a hearty welcome from Mr. Dawson and his daughter.