said--these were his very words, uncle--'I ain't fit to come home,
father. I'm a disgrace to your name,' and Mrs. Maxwell--Tommy told
me--she just took his head between her two hands, and drew it to rest on
her shoulder, and then she bent down and kissed him all over and she
said:--

"'My boy, who should you come to when you are in disgrace and trouble
but your own father and mother?'

"Tommy said, when he told me this, 'It fair broke my heart, miss,' and
then he gave a great sob, and I began to cry, and then Mrs. Maxwell came
up, and her hands were all floury, for she was making an apple pudding,
and she cried too, and then we all cried together--at least, Tommy
turned his head away and pretended he didn't, but I saw he did."

Milly paused for breath, and her eyes looked wistfully into the glowing
coals before her.

"I didn't know prodigal sons were sad when they came back, but Tommy
seemed so sad that he made me sad too. Why do you think Tommy cried,
uncle?"

Sir Edward did not reply. He was gazing dreamily into the fire, and
something of the wistfulness in his little niece's face seemed to be
reflected in his. He gave a start after a moment's silence.

"Eh, child? What are you saying? Have you finished your story?"

"Why, no, uncle, not nearly. Are you tired? Nurse said I must not tire
you too much."