'If you please, Mrs. Darrell.'

'What, Milly, won't you call me mamma?'

Milly was silent for a few moments, with a pained expression in her
face.

'Pray, forgive me,' she said in a low voice; 'I cannot call any one
by that name.'

Augusta Darrell kissed her again silently.

'It shall be as you wish, dear,' she said, after a pause.

A rosy-cheeked, pleasant-looking girl, who had been accustomed to
wait on Milly in the old time, came forward to meet us, and ran
before us to our rooms, expressing her delight at her young lady's
return all the way she went.

The rooms were very pretty, and were situated in that portion of the
house which looked towards the sea. There was a sitting-room,
brightly furnished with some light kind of wood, and with chintz
hangings all over rose-buds and butterflies. This had been Milly's
schoolroom, and there was a good many books in two pretty-looking
bookcases on each side of the fireplace. Besides these, there were
some curious old cabinets full of shells and china. It was
altogether the prettiest, most homelike room one could imagine.

Opening out of this, there was a large airy bedroom, with three