A few days later the children, with ill-concealed elation, said good-bye to Mrs. Everard and her household, and started on their journey homewards. Mr. Hollys drove with them to the London terminus, where Miss Burton met them, as arranged. Mr. Hollys seemed sorry that he was not going with them.
"I shall soon follow you, Beryl," he said. "I feel that I have had enough of London."
"Oh, do, papa! That will be nice!" cried Beryl joyfully.
Beryl's spirits did not flag through all the long journey to Egloshayle. When she sprang out of train at the little country station, she appeared almost as fresh as when she started, from London.
How pleasant it was to be at Egloshayle again! The cool evening breeze which greeted them was so much sweeter and purer than any air to be breathed in London. And then to catch the distant murmur of the waves, and see them tumbling in merry haste upon the shore—what pleasure in town could compare with that?
Miss Burton smiled to see the rapture with which the children welcomed each familiar sight and sound as they drove home in the waning light.
"How true it is that there is no place like home!" remarked Beryl, as Egloshayle House came in sight.
"It is worthwhile to go away to have the pleasure of coming back," said Coral sagely.
In her joy at finding herself at home, Beryl threw her arms around her aunt's neck, and gave her an unusually warm embrace, till that lady implored her niece to have mercy on her pretty lace frill. She even had a kind word and caress for the fat, lazy poodle, and soon—as followed by Coral she ran through the house, looking into every nook and corner, and making enquiries concerning all that had happened in her absence—the whole household had cause to know that Miss Beryl had come home.