"I can't think who this is from," said Monica, taking up the last parcel and hastily cutting the string. "Oh, grannie, do look!" she cried, holding up a plain leather frame containing the photograph of Robina Herschel and her brother, taken together. In the frame was slipped a scrap of paper, bearing the words: "In memory of happy days at Sandyshore."
"Oh, I am glad to have that!" said Monica, as she gazed upon the pictured features of the two she admired so much, the fair, fragile girl presenting such a contrast to her firm, resolute brother. "I suppose it is in return for the snapshot which Marcus took, that I gave them. But how could they--I mean who could have told them when my birthday was?"
"Probably the letter will explain," suggested Mrs. Beauchamp, who was not quite sure that she approved of a double photograph. But a hasty glance at Monica's innocent face disarmed all suspicion.
It soon transpired that Elsa had been the little bird who had been only too ready to tell Miss Herschel when Monica's birthday was; and thus the mystery was quickly cleared up. Robina only wrote a short letter, as they were all very busy getting her brother's things ready for his voyage to Africa. He was to be dismissed, among other missionaries, at a public meeting in London in the course of a few days, and would start for the Soudan almost immediately after. "He sends you his best wishes, not only for your birthday, but for always," the letter concluded, "and says that you will find his good-bye message in Colossians i. 9, 10. We shall miss him terribly, mother and I, but we are quite, quite willing. Perhaps Mrs. Beauchamp would spare you to pay us a little visit after Christmas, while your holidays were on. Tell her, mother says we would take the greatest care of you!"
Monica read the last two sentences aloud, before she folded up the letter and put it in its envelope.
"It would be nice, grannie, wouldn't it? I hardly remember going away on a visit to any one."
"We must see," remarked Mrs. Beauchamp, in not very gushing tones. Strangely enough, the mere thought of parting with this granddaughter of hers, even for a week or two, filled her with dismay; she had grown to be dependent upon her for company, and the bright, cheery, girlish presence would be sadly missed at Carson Rise now.
And yet, Monica must go out into the world, and make friends and see many phases of life, of which she was utterly ignorant now. So she stifled a sigh, and added: "It is very kind of Mrs. Herschel to invite you, and it would make a nice little change for you, during the winter."
Monica, whose face had fallen somewhat at her grandmother's first remark, brightened up visibly. She would so like to go and stay with the Herschels, and she had been afraid Mrs. Beauchamp meant to refuse her consent, but now the prospect looked more hopeful.
"Two more letters and then I've done," she said gaily, opening the envelope bearing the old lady's handwriting first. Inside it was a crisp, new five-pound note, wrapped in a half-sheet of notepaper.