"My wife bids me say she will do her best for your little girl," he wrote, "and I am sure she will not be lonely with Rose and Bob for playfellows. Bob goes to the village school; but Rose attends a private school for girls, kept by a Miss Matthews, and I suggest that Mavis should accompany her. Why not come and spend a few days with Mavis at W— before you leave England? It would give us much pleasure to welcome you to the Mill House." "I should like to go," Mrs. Grey said, smiling at her little daughter, to whom she had been reading extracts from her brother-in-law's letter, "and I will try to manage it. I think I must go and see Miss Dawson to-day, and ascertain if her father has decided by which vessel she is to travel. Would you like to accompany me—to Camden Square, I mean, where the Dawsons live?" "Indeed I should, mother," Mavis answered. "I have told Miss Dawson about you, and she expressed a desire to see you. I think she will like to talk to you, Mavis, and you must try not to be shy with her, for she is little more than a child herself. She is exceedingly low-spirited at the prospect of leaving her father, to whom she is most devotedly attached." "She's very rich, didn't you say, mother?" said Mavis. "Rich as far as money goes, but she cannot enjoy life, like most girls of her age, because she is in such poor health." "I suppose she'll get well, won't she?" "I cannot say, my dear. God alone knows that." Mavis' interest in Miss Dawson was increasing, and she was now all eagerness to see her. She and her mother started for Camden Square shortly after their midday dinner, but it was nearly four o'clock by the time they reached their destination. Never before had the little girl been in such a luxuriously furnished house as Mr. Dawson's, and she made good use of her eyes as she crossed the hall in the wake of the servant who ushered her mother and herself into a large, lofty drawing-room. How soft was the thick velvet pile carpet, with its pattern of moss and pale pink rosebuds! It was almost too handsome to step on, Mavis thought, and she looked at her boots anxiously, to make sure they were not muddy. "Oh, mother, this is a lovely room," she whispered as the servant, who had informed them that her master was not at home, but that he was expected shortly, went to tell Miss Dawson of their arrival; "but if it was mine I should be afraid to use it, I am sure. It is far, far handsomer than Miss Tompkins' front drawing-room." Miss Tompkins' front drawing-room, which that worthy lady let at half a guinea a week, had hitherto been Mavis' idea of what a drawing-room should be, but now she relegated it to a second place in her estimation. In a very short while, the servant returned, and said that Miss Dawson was ready to receive them, and they were shown upstairs. The servant drew back a heavy crimson plush curtain hanging before a door which she opened, and announced—"Mrs. Grey, if you please, Miss Laura."