o speak to him.

Windebank made one or two remarks about nothing in particular. Devitt
was about to start, when the other said:

"By the way, when you do see Miss Keeves, you might tell her that the
mater and my sister will be down here next week and that they'll be
awfully pleased to see her, if she'd care to come and stay."

"I won't forget," replied Devitt dryly.

"Tell her to come for as long as she cares to, as the mater and Celia
were always fond of her. None of us could ever make out what became of
her."

"I won't forget," said Devitt again.

"Thanks. Good-bye."

Montague told his wife of this; she had replied:

"We will decide nothing till we see her," which meant that, if Mavis
had not fulfilled the promise of her childhood, and had grown up plain,
there would be some prospect of her being engaged in some capacity in
the Devitt family, as her acquaintance with the big people about
Melkbridge might result in introducing Victoria within the charmed
circle, without prejudicing the latter's chances of making a brilliant
match. Mrs Devitt's words likewise meant that, if Mavis were charming
or pretty, her prospects of securing an engagement would be of the
slenderest.

Mavis, ignorant of these considerations, was driven to the door of
Melkbridge House. On getting out of the cart, the front door was opened
by Hayter, the fat butler, who showed her into the drawing-room. Left
to herself, Mavis looked about the expensively furnished room. Noticing
a mirror, she walked to it in order to see if hair or hat had been
disarranged by her journey and drive; as she looked at her comely
reflection, she could not help seeing with a thrill of satisfaction
that already the change of air, together with the excitement of the
occasion, had flushed her cheeks with colour; she was looking her best.
She walked to the window and looked in the direction of her old home,
which was on a slight eminence about a mile from where she stood: were
the time of year other than summer, its familiar outlines would not
have been obscured by foliage. Mavis sighed, turned her back on the
window and walked towards the fireplace; something moving in the cool,
carefully shaded room caught her eye. It was the propitiatory wagging
of a black, cocker spaniel's tail, while its eyes were looking
pleadingly up to her. Mavis loved all animals; in a moment the spaniel
was in her lap, her arms were about its neck, and she was pressing her
soft, red lips