e! Mary coming home!"

Dick and Dora were rather alarmed at the result of their plot. They
dreaded the effect of possible disappointment; but they had learned what
they wanted to know--that was the main point. The rector was inconsolable
without his wife. Her return was the only thing that could dispel the
torpor which rendered him indifferent to daily concerns.

Netty was called into counsel to decide what was to be done. Her simple
settlement of the difficulty was very welcome.

"I shall just write and tell mother what you've done. Then, she can act
as she pleases; but I expect she'll be very angry."

CHAPTER XXXII

HOME AGAIN

Netty's letter to her mother was characteristic:

"MY DEAR MOTHER,

I do wish you would come home. It's positively hateful here without
you. Dora Dundas goes to-morrow, thank goodness, and, of course,
Dick is in the dumps. She has managed the house as though it were
her own, and I, for one, shall be heartily glad to see the back of
her.

"I am very miserable for many reasons. Since that wretched business
about the checks, Mrs. Bent has been so different, and so has
Harry. He is always at the Ocklebournes', and you know what Nelly
Ocklebourne is. The way she behaves is disgraceful. Harry was
always particularly friendly in that quarter, and it is absurd of
them to talk about the friendship of a lifetime as an excuse for a
quite disgraceful familiarity. Wherever he goes, Nell is certain to
turn up, too. It is quite marked.

"We all want you to come home, father included. Dora and Dick had
your room turned out yesterday, and, when father saw the muddle, he
asked why. They told him your room was being got ready for your
return. He seemed overjoyed and quite overcome, and for the first
time since his illness he looks something like his old self. He is
studying the time-tables and the clocks all day, expecting you at
any minute, so you need not be afraid the excitement will be too
much for him."

Mrs. Swinton read no more than this. A sudden wild happiness seized her.
She pressed the letter to her lips, and sobbed with relief. All the
pent-up misery of the last few weeks were washed away in tears; the
barriers of pride were broken down; she was as humble and contrite as a
little child. She startled her maid by an unusual morning activity, and
consulted the time-tables quite as eagerly as John. He wanted her; that
was enough. She cared