ed against her throbbing head. After what seemed a great
interval of time (it was really three minutes), Mrs Gowler waddled into
the room, bringing a letter, which Mavis snatched from her hands. To
her unspeakable relief, it was in Perigal's handwriting, and bore the
Melkbridge postmark. She tore it open, to read the following:--

"MY DEAREST GIRL,--Why no letter? Are you well? Have you any news in
the way of a happy issue from all your afflictions? I have left Wales
for good. Love as always, C. D. P."

These hastily scribbled words brought a healing joy to Mavis's heart.
She read and re-read them, pressing her baby to her heart as she did
so. As a special mark of favour, Jill was permitted to kiss the letter.
If Mavis had thought that a communication, however scrappy, from her
lover would bring her unalloyed gladness, she was mistaken. No sooner
was her mind relieved of one load than it was weighted with another;
the substitution of one care for another had long become a familiar
process. The intimate association of mind and body being what it is,
and Mavis's offspring being dependent on the latter for its well-being,
it was no matter for surprise that her baby developed disquieting
symptoms. Hence, Mavis's new cause for concern.

Contrary to the case of unwedded mothers, as usually described in the
pages of fiction, Mavis's love for her baby had, so far, not been
particularly active, this primal instinct having as yet been more
slumbering than awake. As soon after his birth as she was capable of
coherent thought, she had been much concerned at the undeniable
existence of the new factor which had come into her life. There was no
contradicting Mrs Gowler, who had said that "babies take a lot of
explaining away." She reflected that, if the fight for daily bread had
been severe when she had merely to fight for herself, it would be much
harder to live now that there was another mouth to fill, to say nothing
of the disabilities attending her unmarried state. The fact of her
letter to Perigal having been returned through the medium of the
dead-letter office had almost distracted her with worry, and it is a
commonplace that this variety of care is inimical to the existence of
any form of love.

Her baby's illness quickly called to life all the immense maternal
instinct which she possessed, but, at the same time, her recent
awakening to her own claims to consideration made her realise, with a
heartfelt sigh, that, in lovin