oices reached me every now and then. I could hear
Nathaniel chanting in a deep bass, as he worked in the back-yard, 'All
people that on earth do dwell,'--the dear homely Old Hundredth. It was no
wonder that a light, very light, footstep on the gravel outside did not
rouse me. The door behind me opened, and Tinker turned his head lazily,
and his tail began to flop heavier against the floor. The next moment two
soft arms were round my neck.

'Gladys,--oh, Gladys!' and for the moment I could say no more, in my
delight and surprise at seeing the dear beautiful face again.

'I wanted to surprise you, Ursula dear,' she said, laughing and kissing
me. 'How still and quiet you and Tinker were! I believe you were both
asleep. When I heard you were coming home I planned with Lady Betty that
I would creep down to the cottage and take you unawares. I made Mrs.
Barton promise not to betray me.'

'When did you come back?' I asked, bewildered. 'Why did you not write and
tell me you were coming?'

'Oh, it was decided all in a hurry. The Maberleys heard that their
daughter, Mrs. Egerton, would arrive in England this week, a whole month
before they expected her, so they have gone down to Southampton, and left
me to find my way home alone. I arrived last night, much to Giles's
astonishment. You know Dora is their only surviving child, and she has
been in India the last five years. She is bringing her two boys home.'

'Last night. Then you did not get my letter?'

'No; but it will follow me. How good you have been to write so often,
Ursula! I have quite lived on your letters.'

'Let me see how you look,' was my answer to this; and indeed I thought
she had never looked more beautiful. There was a lovely colour in her
face, and she seemed bright and animated, though I could not deny that
she was still very thin.

'You have not grown fatter,' I went on, pretending to grumble; 'you are
still too transparent, in my opinion; but Jill's snow-maiden has a little
life in her.'

'Does Jill call me that?' she returned, in some surprise. 'Oh, I am quite
well: even Giles says so. He declares he is glad to have me back, and
poor little Lady Betty quite cried with joy. It was nice, after all,
coming home.'

'I am so glad to hear you say that.'

'Etta is away, you know: that makes the difference. Gladwyn never seemed
so homelike before. By the bye, Ursula, Giles has sent you a message;
he--no, we all three, want you to spend a long evening wit