_This is to inform you that last week Mrs. Alison, your daughter-in-law, died of the influenza very suddenly the week before Xmas. As I understood from her who was her sister that you were anxious to have the care of her little girl, and as me and my husband cannot undertake the responsibility we are taking the liberty of asking if you would kindly accept delivery of the little girl as per this letter. My sister, Mrs. Alison, kept your address in her writing materials and I have taken the liberty to write to you direct hoping I may be pardoned for the intrusion. She is a very nice well-behaved little girl and my husband and me are very sorry to part with her which we wouldn't want to do if we hadn't six of our own which makes it a bit difficult in a small house and not being very rich people. The little girl could be dispatched to Paris to suit your convenience if you would kindly remit cost of sending her as per your instructions which we duly await._ _And I am, Yours truly, Emily Bocock._ (_Mrs. Alfred Bocock._) "Célestine! Célestine!" "Madame?" cried Célestine, running to find out what her mistress wanted. "Célestine, pack my things, we are going back to London." "_Tout de suit, Madame?_" "Don't stop to argue, Célestine. Pack! Pack!" The preparations for their return to London were no sooner finished than Mary was seized with nervousness. Suppose she presented herself at this house to fetch her granddaughter and the little girl, who by now was twelve and likely to have a mind of her own, refused to accompany her? It would be a dreadfully inauspicious beginning to what she hoped was going to be the happiest time since Richard was alive. It would be easier to welcome the child here by herself. She should feel less self-conscious, and the child separated from her companions would be more ready to accept her grandmother. If she had a house in London it would be different; but she should be afraid to take her to an hotel. Yes, it was better to be patient for an extra day and send Célestine to fetch her. Besides, there was much to prepare here. There was Mary's bedroom to be got ready. She must choose the furniture herself. She knew exactly what a child of twelve would like. There were toys to buy. She would not be too old for dolls and a really good doll's-house and a variety of games which perhaps she would enjoy playing with her grandmother. It might be advisable to begin looking about for a good governess. If only she could find somebody like Mademoiselle Lucinge. Yes, it would be wiser to send Célestine to fetch her. Célestine could be trusted? Or should she telegraph to Muriel and ask her to arrange for a trustworthy person to escort the child? No, that might delay matters. Muriel was so particular, and in Gloucestershire she might not be able to find the right person at once. No, Célestine must go.