Mildred had felt some apprehension as to how Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine would receive her decision, but much to her relief it seemed to be only what they had expected, and they at once began to make arrangements for her return.
"We shall not lose sight of you altogether," said Lady Lorraine kindly. "Both Violet and I shall expect to hear from you sometimes, and you must pay us a visit every now and then. I should be sorry if, after having made an effort to be friends, we were to become estranged from one another again, and I want you always to feel that if you like to come and see us you will be welcome here."
Though she did not repent her choice, Mildred certainly felt a pang at leaving all the many beauties of Castleford behind her. She had grown so used to the ever-changing aspect of the lake, the calm of the silent woods, the glory of the rugged fells and the rushing streams, that she should miss them like old friends; they had inspired the poetical side of her nature, and she owed a debt to them in increased powers of imagination which she would some day realize. Coming at this period of her life, the time spent at The Towers had been to her of untold benefit; it had enlarged her views, altered her estimation of many things, and adjusted her childish standpoint to a truer judgment of this world's affairs. Both from the Lorraines and the Somervilles she had learnt much, and it was only after she had returned to Kirkton that she felt how great a change the visit had made in her.
"We don't want to lose you, dear, but I think you're quite right," said Mrs. Somerville, as Mildred said good-bye at the Vicarage. "Rhoda will miss you dreadfully, but we shall hope to meet again, and in the meantime we wish you every possible success in your study of music. You're going to work very hard, I know, and I expect when you next play to us we shall be even more delighted than now. We shall all be anxious to hear news of you, and you must never forget your friends at Castleford."
As Mrs. Graham had said, a very big welcome awaited Mildred when she at last returned to her old home. The thought that a parting had been possible gave an added zest to their reunion, and both her uncle and aunt held her in their arms as if they could scarcely let her go again.
"You are our own little girl now," said Uncle Colin, "and we intend to keep you! We haven't very much to give you, darling, except a great deal of love, but you're sure of that, at any rate; and if you think you'll be happier here with us, you know you'll not find anyone who'd be fonder of you than we are."
"There was never any choice about it at all," cried Mildred, distributing her kisses alternately. "I meant from the first to come back. I'd rather live here a thousand times than at The Towers. They were very kind to me, but oh! it wasn't at all the same. I'm your girl, not theirs; I always have been and always will be, so please don't try sending me away again."
"You were right," said Dr. Graham that evening to his wife. "It was a risky experiment, but I'm glad we tried it. Mildred has had her taste of society, and of everything that wealth and position can offer; she knows perfectly well what she's giving up, and if she would rather live with us, and study her violin, she has made the choice of her own free will, and there's the less likelihood of her repenting afterwards. I think, however, that she really prefers our life to theirs, and will be happier with some definite work than spending all her time in amusement. As you predicted, the seed which we planted has sprung up. I hope we may live to see great things from her in the future, and that she may never regret the step she has taken."