Mavis thanked her friend; she made no further mention of the matter which occasionally disturbed her peace of mind.

For all her friend’s kindly offer, she longed to tread the familiar ways of the country town which was so intimately associated with the chief event of her life.

During the five unexpired days of Miss Toombs’s holiday, the two women were rarely apart.  Of a morning they would take the baby to the grounds of Chelsea Hospital, which, save for the presence of the few who were familiar with its quietude, they had to themselves.  Once or twice, they took a ’bus to the further side of the river, when they would sit in a remote corner of Battersea Park.  They also went to Kew Gardens and Richmond Park.  Mavis had not, for many long weeks, known such happiness as that furnished by Miss Toombs’s society.  Her broad views of life diminished Mavis’s concern at the fact of her being a mother without being a wife.

The time came when Mavis set out for Paddington (she left the baby behind in charge of Jill), in order to see her friend go by the afternoon train to Melkbridge.  Mavis was silent.  She wished that she were journeying over the hundred miles which lay between where she stood and her lover.  Miss Toombs was strangely cheerful:  to such an extent, that Mavis wondered if her friend guessed the secret of her lover’s identity, and, divining her heart’s longings, was endeavouring to distract her thoughts from their probable preoccupation.  Mavis thanked her friend again and again for all she had done for her.  Miss Toombs had that morning received a letter from her London boot acquaintance in reply to one she had written concerning Mavis.  This letter had told Miss Toombs that her friend should fill the first vacancy that might occur.  Upon the strength of this promise, Miss Toombs had prevailed on Mavis to accept five pounds from her; but Mavis had only taken it upon the understanding that the money was a loan.

While they were talking outside Miss Toombs’s third class compartment, Mavis saw Montague Devitt pass on his way to a first, followed by two porters, who were staggering beneath the weight of a variety of parcels.  Mavis hoped that he would not see her; but the fates willed otherwise.  One of the porters dropped a package, which fell with a resounding thwack at Mavis’s feet.  Devitt turned, to see Mavis.

“Miss Keeves!” he said, raising his hat.

Mavis bowed.

“May I speak to you a moment?” he asked, after glancing at Miss Toombs, and furtively lifting his hat to this person.

Mavis joined him.

“What has become of you all this time?”

“I’ve been working in London.”

“I’ve often thought of you.  What are you doing now?”

“I’m looking for something to do.”

“I suppose you’d never care to come back and work for me in Melkbridge?”

“Nothing I should like better,” remarked Mavis, as her heart leapt.