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She submitted herself to the maid (she would not go near the nurse) and was re-arranged and smoothed and tidied, and left at last at the bedroom door, with a final injunction to be a good girl, and very quiet, and not stay long.

She shook off the maid’s hand, and, awed a little in spite of herself, slipped into the room.

She was so small that the foot of the big bedstead blocked her vision like a wall, and for a blank moment she thought the room empty. Then the clothes rustled faintly, and emboldened she peeped round the post. There, sure enough, lay her mother, her beautiful long plaits disordered, an arm flung out weakly.

She clambered on to the bed and cast herself upon her in an ecstasy of relief.

“Mother! Mother!”

Well, she had her half-hour and was sent away comforted. Laura was to enjoy herself—and be very good—and go on with her lessons—and be kind to Wilfred and James: and there should be letters, many letters, in a round hand that Laura could read all by herself. And soon, very soon, Mother would come and fetch her home—and so good-bye to Laura, her Laura, her own little girl——