"No, my dear. You shall all go back to Cornwall with me."
"Oh, father!" Mrs. Blundell exclaimed joyfully.
"Oh, how splendid!" Maggie cried, clapping her hands.
"Is it in the country?" Annie asked, a wistful longing in her eyes. "Will there be flowers, and trees, and birds? And shall I get well there?"
"I trust so, my dear," the old man replied, "and it's quite in the country. Your mother will tell you all about it."
"And we shall never come back here any more," said Maggie reflectively, casting a lingering look, not devoid of affection, round the garret which had been home to them so long. "Poor old place! I shall never forget it!"
It had been a poor home, but after all, mother and children had had their happy days there—days when no troubles had been able to obliterate the sunshine of God's presence in their hearts, and they had felt secure in His loving care.
There is little more to tell. When old John Mudford returned to Cornwall, he took his daughter and her children with him, and in her native air Mrs. Blundell soon lost her careworn looks, and her tired eyes regained their strength. Maggie became quite rosy and blooming; but it was Annie who changed the most. The following summer found her able to move about, and her poor back grew stronger as time went on, and the fresh, country air did its work.
Mrs. Metherell still keeps on her lodging-house, and Clara remains with her as servant; but she has lost her favourite lodger, for Mr. Blewett has been appointed junior house surgeon at the hospital where he was once a student, so that it is more than probable he will find his life's work in London, after all.
Meanwhile, first amongst the carefully guarded treasures of Maggie and Annie Blundell is the doll, in its gaudy amber gown, that was the humble means of bringing a shower of blessings in its train. The children declare they will never forget their last Christmas in London, which, in the midst of their poverty and many anxieties, was full of unlooked-for happiness and joy.