"Ay, that is he," said I, "or I mistake, Madam." "Dear heart, but what an ill one must he be!" quoth Mistress _Jane_. "Why he made old _Nanny's_ grand-daughter _Doll_ reckon he meant to wed her, and promised to give her a silver chain for her neck this next _Sunday_!" All this while sat _Milisent_ still and spake never a word. I gat discourse turned so soon as ever I might. Then after a little while went we down to hall, and good mirth was had of the young gentlewomen with _Robin_ and me: but all the while _Milisent_ very still, so that at last Mistress _Cicely_ noted it, and asked her if her head ached. She said ay: and she looked like it. So, soon after came we thence, and crossed the lake again, and so home. _Milly_ yet very silent all the even: not as though she sulked, as of late, but rather as though she meditated right sadly. SELWICK HALL, DECEMBER YE VII. This morrow, I being in Aunt _Joyce's_ chamber, helping her to lay by the new-washed linen, come _Milisent_ in very softly. "Aunt _Joyce_," she saith, "I would fain have speech of you." "Shall I give thee leave [go away and leave you], _Milly_?" said I, arising, for I was knelt of the floor, before the bottom drawer. "Nay, _Edith_," she makes answer: "thou knowest my faults, and it is but meet thou shouldst hear my confession." Her voice choked somewhat, and Aunt _Joyce_ saith lovingly, "Dost think, then, thou hast been foolish, dear child?" "I can hardly tell about foolish, _Aunt_," saith she, casting down her eyes, "but methinks I have been sinful. Will you forgive me mine hard words and evil deeds?" "Ay, dear heart, right willingly. And I shall not gainsay thee, _Milly_," saith Aunt _Joyce_, sadly: "for `the thought of foolishness is sin,' and God calls many a thing sin whereof we men think but too lightly. Yet, bethink thee that `if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father.' Now, dear heart, if thou wilt be ruled by me, thou wilt `arise and go to thy father' and thy mother, and say to them right as did the prodigal, that thou hast sinned against Heaven and in their sight. I think neither of them is so much angered as sorrowful and pitying: yet, if there be any anger in them, trust me, that were the way to disarm it. Come back, _Milly_--first to God, and then to them. Thou shalt find fatherly welcome from either." _Milly_ still hid her face. "Aunt _Joyce_," she saith, "I dare not say I have come _back_ to God, for I have been doubting this morrow if I were ever near Him. But I think I have _come_. So now I may go to _Father_ and _Mother_." Aunt _Joyce_ kissed her lovingly, and carried her off. Of course I know not what happed betwixt _Father_ and _Mother_, and _Milly_, but I know that _Milly_ looks a deal happier, and yet sadder [graver], than she hath done of many days: and that both _Father_ and _Mother_ be very tender unto her, as to one that had been lost and is found.