told of this decision, sent Jill up in charge of a
maid, who asked that its collar and chain might be returned to
Melkbridge House.

Mavis took Jill in her arms, when it would seem by the dog's
demonstrations of delight as if it had long been a stranger to
affectionate regard.

"Be you agoing to keep un?" asked the maid.

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't. Hev a good look at un."

Mavis looked, to see that Jill's comparatively recent litter had been
responsible for the temporary abnormal development of the parts of her
body by which she had nourished her young.

"It's why Mrs Devitt wouldn't have un in the house. I don't blame her.
I call it disgusting," continued this chip of Puritanical stock.

"I see nothing to object to. It's nature," retorted Mavis, who inwardly
smiled to see how the Puritanical-minded young woman, who had looked
askance at Jill's appearance, did not hesitate to grab the girl's
proffered shilling.

Jill and Mavis were at once fast friends. The dog accompanied her
mistress in all her rambles, where its presence routed the forces of
loneliness which were beginning to lay siege to the girl's peace of
mind. Jill slept on Mavis's bed, pined when she left her in the
morning, madly rejoiced at her mistress' return from work, when the
vigorous wagging of Jill's tail, together with the barks of delight
which greeted Mavis, gave her a suggestion of home which she had never
experienced since the days of Brandenburg College.

This year, spring came early, like a beautiful mistress who joins an
enraptured lover before he dares to hope for her coming. With the
lengthening days Mavis knew an increasing distress of mind. She became
unsettled: outbreaks of violent energy alternated with spells of
laziness, which, more often than not, were accompanied by headaches.
Books of historical memoirs, hitherto an unfailing solace, failed to
interest her. Love stories she would avoid for weeks on end, as if they
were the plague, suddenly to fall to and devour them with avidity, when
the inclination seized her.

It was not yet warm enough for her to sit in her nook; it was doubtful
if she would have done so if the weather had been sufficiently
propitious. The reason for her present indifference to the spot, which
she had always loved, was that it bordered the Avon, and just now the
river was swollen and turbulent with spring rains. Her soul ached for
companionship with something stable, soothing, still. Perhaps this was