atisfaction, then suddenly rushed
into the hall at the sound of a loud knock at the door. So soon! She
had not expected the next delivery for another half-hour at least. No
letter appeared in the box; so, with wild visions of a legal missive,
registered for greater safety, she threw open the door and peered out
into the night.

A man's tall figure stood on the step; but it was not the figure of a
postman. Mollie leant forward--the light from above shining on cheeks
flushed from contact with the fire, and ruffled golden head--leant
forward, and stared into his face with incredulous eyes.

"Mollie!" cried a well-remembered voice, which broke into an eloquent
tremor over the name.

"You!" cried Mollie! "Mr Melland! It can't be! What does it mean?
You can't really be here!"

He laughed at that, and took a step forward, like the masterful Jack of
old.

"I am here; it is myself, and nobody else! I'll tell you all about it
if you will let me in. It's rather cold to-night, you know."

She held the door wide open at that, and hurried him across the hall
into the little, pink-lighted room, which she had just prepared for
another's reception. There they stood face to face, staring at each
other for a breathless moment.

"I thought you were in Raby--"

"So I was yesterday. I left this morning, and came down by the first
train."

"Mrs Thornton promised to write. I thought you were the postman just
now; and, of course, one cannot help being curious.--Have you come to
tell us anything nice? Did Uncle Bernard remember us at all?"

"He has left your sister his wife's rubies. They are very beautiful, I
am told, and of considerable value."

"Oh, I am glad! Ruth will be pleased; and she will be able to wear them
when she is married. How beautiful she will look! And--and me?"

Jack shook his head.

"Nothing? Not even a word to say he forgave me for coming away?"

"There is a letter. You will see it later on. What I meant was that
your name was not mentioned in the will. He left you no legacy."

Mollie sat down in the easy-chair, and leant her head against the
cushions. In spite of all that had passed, in spite of every
determination to be prepared for the worst, the blow fell with crushing
weight. She was conscious of a feeling of physical weakness, as if the
body shared with the mind in grieving over the vanished dream; but she
tried bravely to smile and look unconcerned.

"Then I suppose he--Vic