"FRANSDALE VICARAGE, CLEVESHIRE.
"Dear Sir,—I am in receipt of your letter, and note that my brother-in-law, Arnold Lutwyche, is dying, and leaving my niece, Melicent, only daughter of my late sister, wholly unprovided for. I also note that you consider her Boer step-mother is not a fit person to have the charge of her, and is likely to treat her ill.
"Under these circumstances, my duty seems clear, and my wife and I have no hesitation in directing you to send my niece to England by the earliest available boat, and we will give her a home for the present.
"At the same time, I must acquaint you with the fact that our means are small, and we have seven children of our own, so that Melicent will be under the necessity of making herself useful.
"Please send her by the cheapest line of boats, and notify me of her arrival. I fear that I shall not be able to come to London to meet her, but if she is fifteen or sixteen years old, she should be able to make her way to us as far as the railway will bring her—that is to say, to Birdmore Junction, where she shall be met.
"I note that my brother's estate will be sufficient to meet her travelling expenses, so conclude that no advance from me is necessary.
"With thanks to you for the trouble you take in the matter, and remembrances to Mr. Lutwyche, should this letter find him still alive.—I am, very faithfully yours,
"EDMUND CHETWYND-COOPER."
This letter had chilled Mayne by its formal coldness. No love was sent to the orphan, no message of welcome. But the frigidity of the style made apparently no difference to Millie. The great fact was there. Her way to England lay open, her destination fixed. Of all safe shelters, a remote English vicarage should have satisfied her guardian. But somehow, to Carol, the idea of Miss Lutwyche in such a situation, was not convincing. He could not see her in the part, as actors say.
No such doubts troubled her. For the very first time since Mayne had known her, her face beamed and sparkled with joy.