“Yes, I know,” she said, “for I have been to see. I had no answer to two letters, although I gave my address in them, so one day I went down to find my home shut up. Do you know where my father and mother are, Mr. Knight?” “You have been wrong, Miss Wythburn,” said Knight, gently, “so far as your parents are concerned. They have been in London looking for you. I am glad to be able to give you their present address.” “Oh, thank you, so much.” The Basket Woman could scarcely repress her tears. “It is not my place to lecture you, and I apologise for doing so; but I cannot help pointing out to you that you owe a greater duty to your parents than you can possibly owe to strangers, even though the strangers are the very poor, who greatly needed a friend. I quite appreciate the real good you have been doing in Paradise Grove, but you know as well as I that it ought not to have been done at the expense of the happiness of your own father and mother.” “Yes, you are right,” she said, humbly; “but I think you do not know all the facts of the case.” “I know some of them,” he said; “for instance, that you have the right to wear the graduate’s cap and gown instead of the grey cloak.” “I prefer the grey,” she said, brightly, rapidly recovering herself; “and although my conscience has not been at rest, I have spent the happiest months of all my life in Paradise Grove. But I am glad you have seen Darentdale. Is it not lovely?” “It is, indeed; it is almost as beautiful as our new place in Wales. Are you going there with our people?” “Oh, yes; unless my father and mother object. I will always take them into my confidence in future. I need not tell you, Mr. Knight, that the thought of them and what I have done to pain them has made me constantly unhappy.” “I can well believe that. I hope you will still be able to help the people for whom you have made Paradise a real thing.” “Nay, that is what you are going to do, if you do not spoil your lovely valley with houses and factories.” “I hope not; I think not. There are no tall, smoky chimneys, you know, and there will be no noisy machines; all will work cleanly and silently, thanks to the benign inventions of the age. And every house has a garden attached to it.” “Oh, it will be delightful,” she said, rising to leave. “And I will lose no time in going to see my dear ones now.” She could scarcely wait until evening, but as she had promised, she did so. The talk with Mr. Knight had disturbed her considerably, and her thoughts had flown back to her happy home life, and her pleasant college days. She would not give up her work, she resolved nothing should cause her to do that; but she was glad, indeed, to be going to live, though only for a few days, the old calm, restful life.