“I liked her letter,” said Babie, “and I am glad she was such a daughter to you, mother.  Allen says he is thankful she is not a Japanese with black teeth.”

“He wrote very nicely to her, and so did Elfie,” said her mother.  “And Armine wrote a charming little note, which pleased Primrose best of all.”

“Poor Armine has felt all most deeply,” said Babie.  “Do you remember when he thought it his mission to die and do good to Bobus?  Well, he was sure that, though, as he said, his own life then was too shallow and unreal for his death to have done any good, Jock was meant to produce the effect.”

“And he has—-”

“Yes, but by life, not death!  Armie could hardly believe it.  You know he was with us at Christmas; and when he found that Bobus was to be led not by sorrow, but by this Primrose path, it was quite funny to see how surprised he was.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Evelyn, “he went about moralising on the various remedies that are applied to the needs of human nature.”

“It made into a poem at last, such a pretty one,” said Babie.  “And he says he will be wiser all his life for finding things turn out so unlike all his expectations.”

“I have a strange feeling of peace about all my children,” said Caroline.  “I do feel as if my dream had come true, and life, true life, had wakened them all.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Evelyn, “I think they all, in their degree, may be said to have learnt or be learning the way to true Magnum Bonum.”

“And oh! how precious it has been to me,” said the mother.  “How the guarding of that secret aided me through the worst of times!”

THE END.