Millie had long wished to visit her mother's grave, and this afternoon, as old and fond recollections crowded to her memory, the wish grew deeper, and she felt that she must go. The churchyard was some distance from the village; it was too long a journey for Phil to make over rough roads, and she had never liked to leave him while she went alone. But now that he was sleeping so quietly, she thought surely she might take the opportunity to gratify her desire. After a little hesitation, Millie decided that she would go; so having begged Mrs. Blake to keep a watchful eye upon Phil, she started off.
Quickly she passed up the straggling street, and by her own old home, at sight of which the tears rushed to her eyes, and the yearning at her heart grew painful in its intensity. By the village school she went; she was glad that the children were not yet dismissed from lessons, and that consequently the road was quiet, instead of noisy with the merry crowd that would gather there a little later on.
Then climbing the long, steep hill, she arrived at the churchyard where her mother lay. She found the grave readily enough, though no stone marked the spot with the name of her who rested beneath it. No, there was no need for that. Millie singled it out in a moment, and with a return of the old loneliness and grief with which she had at first mourned her loss, she moaned:
"My mother! O! My mother!"
So she cried out her sorrow there, till she felt relieved and comforted. Then she knelt down in the quiet "God's acre" and prayed earnestly for herself; and for those she loved. Rising from her knees she plucked a few pieces of grass for Phil, and, pressing her lips to the cold earth, took a mute farewell of her mother's grave. Then observing for the first time how quickly the shades of night were falling, she hastily began her homeward journey.
As she approached the churchyard gate, a man entered it from the high road, and came towards her. Millie stood aside on the narrow path to allow him to pass. On perceiving her, however, the man stopped, and said:
"Can you tell me, my child, where to find Mrs. Guntry's grave?"
"Mrs. Guntry's?" repeated Millie, thinking that she must have misunderstood him.
"Yes, she was a friend of mine. I'm a stranger in these parts now," said the man, "and shall soon be off again, but I'd like to see her grave before I leave the village."
The voice was strangely familiar to Millie. Where had she heard it before? She raised her eyes and gazed anxiously into his face. Why, surely it was none other than—