"No. Their father was a poor man, with no rich friends to help him, and so—they died."
"Oh, how very sad!" exclaimed Mavis, with quick comprehension. "A trip to Australia and back costs a lot of money, I know. Oh, Mr. Moseley, how dreadful to see any one die for want of money, when some people have so much! How hard it must be! Didn't their poor father almost break his heart with grief? I should think he never could have been happy again."
"You are wrong, my dear. He is an old man now, with few earthly ties, but he is happy. Wife and children are gone, but he knows they are safe with God, and he looks forward to meeting them again when his life's work is over."
He changed the conversation then. But Mavis knew he had been speaking of himself, and that the young girls he had mentioned had been his own children, and her heart was too full of sympathy for words. Silently, she walked along by his side, till they overtook Rose. When Max created a diversion by coming close to her and shaking the water from his shaggy coat, thus treating her to an unexpected shower-bath.
"Oh, Max, you need not have done that!" cried Rose, laughing merrily, whilst the Vicar admonished his favourite too.
But Max was far too excited to heed reproof. He kept Rose employed in flinging sticks and stones for him to fetch, until the back entrance to the mill was reached, where the little girls said good-bye to the Vicar, and the dog followed his master home.
The next few weeks dragged somewhat for Mavis. But she went about with a radiant light in her eyes and joy in her heart. Would her mother come to her immediately on landing? she wondered. Oh, she would come as soon as she possibly could, of that she was sure.
"I expect she wants me just as badly as I want her," she reflected, "for we have been parted for nine months, and that's a long, long time—though, of course, it might have been longer still."
So the May days slipped by, and it was mid-June when, one afternoon, on returning from school, the little girls were met at the front door by Mrs. John, who looked at Mavis with the kindest of smiles on her face.
"You have heard from mother!" cried Mavis, before her aunt had time to speak. "Has the vessel arrived? Have you had a telegram or a letter?"