Next day Mrs. Quentyns was so far convalescent as to be able to return to the little house in Philippa Terrace. Jasper, of course, accompanied her. They had found a good deal to say to each other, between the moment when she had opened her eyes the night before and now. Both had some things to confess--both had some words of forgiveness to crave from the other. So complete now had been the interchange of soul and of love between this pair that it seemed impossible that anything could ever separate such warm hearts again. "And it has been all Judy's doing," said Jasper as they sat that evening in the little drawing room. "What do you mean?" asked his wife. "Why," he answered, "if Judy had not brought matters to a crisis by going away, we might have drifted further and further apart. But now we must have her back again, Hilda. She has fulfilled her mission, dear little soul, and now she must have her reward." "No," said Hilda, in a firm voice. "Judy shall have her reward, but not by coming back. She did right to go. I could never, never have sent her away, but she did right to go." "Do you mean to tell me, Hilda, that you could be perfectly happy to live without her?" "With you," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and looking into his face with her sweet eyes shining through tears. He put his arms round her and kissed her many times. "Jasper," said Hilda after a few minutes, "I think the first wrong step that I took--the first beginning of that unhappy time--was when I lost my temper down at Little Staunton and gave up my engagement ring." "No wonder you lost your temper when I was such a brute about everything," said Quentyns. "It was my fault." "No, no; it was mine." "Have you missed the ring, Hilda?" "Missed it?" she held up her slender finger. "My heart has been empty without it," she said. "Then let me put it on again for you." "Can you? Is--isn't it sold?" "Of course not. Do you think that I could sell that ring?" "But--but the furniture in Judy's room?" "When I saw that you must have Judy with you, Hilda, I went into debt for the furniture. Oh, never mind all that now, my darling--the debt is paid in full a week ago, and I have the receipt in my pocket. Now I am going upstairs to fetch the ring." CHAPTER XIX. GOOD OMENS. And so the shadows fall apart, And so the west winds play; And all the windows of my heart I open to the day. --WHITTIER. Mildred Anstruther was paying a visit at the Rectory on the day that Rivers and Judy walked in. Rivers was a very striking-looking man, and all the Rectory people were so devoured with curiosity about him, and so interested in all he said and did--in his reasons for coming down to Little Staunton, and in his remarks about the Quentyns--that Judy's own return to the family circle passed into utter insignificance. She was there--they had none of them expected her, and as she chose to come back, she was welcome of course.