[VIII. LOOKING FORWARD TO CHRISTMAS]
[X. SICKNESS AT THE MILL HOUSE]
A SONG-BIRD
[CHAPTER I]
MAVIS AND HER MOTHER
"THERE, I've finished. How the days are drawing in, to be sure! I declare it's getting dark already, though it's only six o'clock."
The scene was an upstairs sitting-room in a dingy London lodging-house, on a September evening. And the speaker—Mrs. Grey—rose from her seat at the table as she spoke, and laid aside her writing materials with an air of relief, afterwards placing the letter, over the composition of which she had spent fully half an hour, on the mantelpiece. She then took an easy-chair by the window, whilst the other occupant of the room—her little daughter, Mavis, who had been watching the passers-by in the street—settled herself on a stool at her feet.
"Now we can have a nice chat, mother," Mavis said. "I've been longing to talk, but I haven't liked to disturb you. You've been writing a very particular letter, haven't you?"