“She’s a cocker spaniel—­her name’s Jill.  She belongs to my boy, Harold.  But as he’s away—­”

“Then we’ve already met.  I saw her the day I came down to see you from London.  You’re right—­she is a dear.”

“My boy, who is still away for his health—­”

“I am sorry,” Mavis interrupted.

“Thanks.  He wrote to say that, as we—­some of us—­appeared to find her a nuisance, we’d better try and find her a happy home.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy with me.”

“What about your landlady?”

“I’d forgotten her.  I must ask.”

“If she doesn’t mind, Jill’s licence is paid till the end of the year.”

“I do hope Mrs Farthing won’t mind,” declared Mavis hopefully.

Rather to her surprise, Mrs Farthing made little objection to Jill’s coming to live with Mavis, her surrender being partly due to the fact of the girl’s winsome presence having softened the elder woman’s heart, but largely because it had got about Melkbridge that Mavis came of a local county family.

Mr Devitt, being told of this decision, sent Jill up in charge of a maid, who asked that its collar and chain might be returned to Melkbridge House.

Mavis took Jill in her arms, when it would seem by the dog’s demonstrations of delight as if it had long been a stranger to affectionate regard.

“Be you agoing to keep un?” asked the maid.

“Why not?”

“I shouldn’t.  Hev a good look at un.”

Mavis looked, to see that Jill’s comparatively recent litter had been responsible for the temporary abnormal development of the parts of her body by which she had nourished her young.

“It’s why Mrs Devitt wouldn’t have un in the house.  I don’t blame her.  I call it disgusting,” continued this chip of Puritanical stock.

“I see nothing to object to.  It’s nature,” retorted Mavis, who inwardly smiled to see how the Puritanical-minded young woman, who had looked askance at Jill’s appearance, did not hesitate to grab the girl’s proffered shilling.

Jill and Mavis were at once fast friends.  The dog accompanied her mistress in all her rambles, where its presence routed the forces of loneliness which were beginning to lay siege to the girl’s peace of mind.  Jill slept on Mavis’s bed, pined when she left her in the morning, madly rejoiced at her mistress’ return from work, when the vigorous wagging of Jill’s tail, together with the barks of delight which greeted Mavis, gave her a suggestion of home which she had never experienced since the days of Brandenburg College.

This year, spring came early, like a beautiful mistress who joins an enraptured lover before he dares to hope for her coming.  With the lengthening days Mavis knew an increasing distress of mind.  She became unsettled:  outbreaks of violent energy alternated with spells of laziness, which, more often than not, were accompanied by headaches.  Books of historical memoirs, hitherto an unfailing solace, failed to interest her.  Love stories she would avoid for weeks on end, as if they were the plague, suddenly to fall to and devour them with avidity, when the inclination seized her.