‘Who can this be from, Alice?’

The elder sister had one of her headaches this morning; she was clay colour, and tottered in moving about.  The close atmosphere of the bedroom would alone have accounted for such a malady.  But an unexpected letter made her for the moment oblivious of suffering.

‘Posted in London,’ she said, examining the envelope eagerly.

‘Some one you have been in correspondence with?’

‘It’s months since I wrote to any one in London.’

For full five minutes they debated the mystery, afraid of dashing their hopes by breaking the envelope.  At length Virginia summoned courage.  Standing at a distance from the other, she took out the sheet of paper with tremulous hand, and glanced fearfully at the signature.

‘What do you think?  It’s Miss Nunn!’

‘Miss Nunn!  Never!  How could she have got the address?’

Again the difficulty was discussed whilst its ready solution lay neglected.

‘Do read it!’ said Alice at length, her throbbing head, made worse by the agitation, obliging her to sink down into the chair.

The letter ran thus:—­

’Dear Miss Madden,—­This morning I chanced to meet with Mrs. Darby, who was passing through London on her way home from the seaside.  We had only five minutes’ talk (it was at a railway station), but she mentioned that you were at present in London, and gave me your address.  After all these years, how glad I should be to see you!  The struggle of life has made me selfish; I have neglected my old friends.  And yet I am bound to add that some of them have neglected me.  Would you rather that I came to your lodgings or you to mine?  Which you like.  I hear that your elder sister is with you, and that Monica is also in London somewhere.  Do let us all see each other once more.  Write as soon as you can.  My kindest regards to all of you.—­Sincerely yours,

RHODA NUNN.’

‘How like her,’ exclaimed Virginia, when she had read this aloud, ’to remember that perhaps we may not care to receive visitors!  She was always so thoughtful.  And it is true that I ought to have written to her.’

‘We shall go to her, of course?’

’Oh yes, as she gives us the choice.  How delightful!  I wonder what she is doing?  She writes cheerfully; I am sure she must be in a good position.  What is the address?  Queen’s Road, Chelsea.  Oh, I’m so glad it’s not very far.  We can walk there and back easily.’

For several years they had lost sight of Rhoda Nunn.  She left Clevedon shortly after the Maddens were scattered, and they heard she had become a teacher.  About the date of Monica’s apprenticeship at Weston, Miss Nunn had a chance meeting with Virginia and the younger girl; she was still teaching, but spoke of her work with extreme discontent, and hinted at vague projects.  Whether she succeeded in releasing herself the Maddens never heard.