During the ten days granny, too, had done her share in making happiness. "Gracious me, child," she cried, when she saw the carpetless floor in the drawing-room, "I did not know that it was as bad as this. I have so much furniture at home I can scarcely move for it, and two carpets sewn up with camphor, to keep the moths and mice away, I will send them both as soon as I get back, and--a few other things that may be useful." She hesitated for a moment, then, with her old severe manner, "I don't want to be prying, Audrey, as you know, but how are you off for china--odd plates for the kitchen, and cups and saucers and things." "Not very well, granny. We aren't well off in any kind of china. If the children had been at home we should not have had enough of anything to go round," she added, with a rueful little laugh. And though granny looked shocked for a moment, and felt so, she was obliged to laugh too. "Oh!" she said. "Well, I will pop in some useful odds and ends, so that when I come again on purpose to see the children, we shall have a plate each, and not have to share a cup." But, though they little thought it then, poor Granny Carlyle was never to come again. And none of those she loved best could feel thankful enough that they had had that pleasant time which had brought them all closer together than they had ever been before, and had left not only one happy lifelong memory, but many. CHAPTER XV. "I think I would like to go for a walk, daddy, if you are going home, and will see that mother is all right." "Yes, I will take care of mother. Are you very tired, dear? I am afraid you must be, you have worked very hard looking after us all so well." Audrey smiled up at her father, but it was rather a wistful smile. "No, I am not exactly tired, but I feel as if I wanted a walk." "I expect you do, you have been shut up in the house so much. Well, I will hurry home now; and you will be back in time for tea?" Audrey nodded, and, with a sigh of contentment, turned up the winding road which would presently lead her out on the moor. Granny Carlyle's visit was over, and it was as she and her father were turning away from the station after seeing her off, that there had come to her suddenly a great desire to be alone, to be out on the great, wide, open, silent moor, where she could think and think without fear of interruption. At home there was so little time for thought, and she had so many things to think about. Only yesterday granny had said: "Well, Audrey, and are you coming back to me when the year is up?" And Audrey, shocked at the thrill of dismay the mere suggestion sent through her, had tried to tell her as gently and kindly as possible, that she could not be spared from home, at any rate, until Joan was some years older.