for her, and which Mrs.
Millar had made before she left the island, and a clean white pinafore.
She was screaming with delight, as I threw the ball over her head and
she ran to catch it, when the door opened, and my father ran in.

'Alick, is she here? They've come!'

'Who've come, father?' I said.

'Little Timpey's father and mother; they are coming up the garden now
with your grandfather!

He had hardly finished speaking before my grandfather came in with a
lady and gentleman. The lady ran forward as soon as she saw her child,
put her arms round her, and held her tightly in her bosom, as if she
could never part from her again. Then she sat down with her little
darling on her knee, stroking her tiny hands and talking to her, and
looking, oh, so anxiously, to see if the child remembered her.

At first, Timpey looked a little shy, and hung down her head, and would
not look in her mother's face. But this was only for a minute. As soon
as her mother _spoke_ to her she evidently remembered her voice, and
when Mrs. Villiers asked her, with tears in her eyes,--

'Do you know me, little Timpey? My dear little Timpey, who am I?' the
child looked up, and smiled, as she said, 'Dear mother--Timpey's dear
mother!' and she put up her little fat hand to stroke her mother's face.

And then, when I saw that, I could feel no longer sorry that the child
was going away.

I can well remember what a happy morning that was. Mr. and Mrs. Villiers
were so kind to us, and so very grateful for all that my grandfather and
I had done for their little girl. They thought her looking so much
better and stronger than when she left India, and they were so pleased
to find that she had not forgotten all the little lessons she had learnt
at home. Mrs. Villiers seemed as if she could not take her eyes off the
child; wherever little Timpey went, and whatever she was doing, her
mother followed her, and I shall never forget how happy and how glad
both the father and the mother looked.

But the most pleasant day will come to an end; and in the evening a boat
was to come from shore to take Mr. and Mrs. Villiers and their child
away.

'Dear me!' said my grandfather, with a groan, as he took the little girl
on his knee, 'I never felt so sorry to lose anybody, _never_; I'm sure I
didn't. Why, I calls her my little sunbeam, sir! You'll excuse me
saying so, but I don't feel over and above kindly to you for taking her
away from me; I don't indeed, sir.'