race of reluctance in the smile of greeting
which she summoned up for Major Durward's benefit as he alighted and
came towards her with outstretched hand.

"But where are the others?" asked Sara, seeing that the chauffeur
immediately headed the car for the garage.

"They're coming along on foot," explained Durward. "Elisabeth declared
they should see nothing of the place cooped up in the car, so they got
out at the lodge and are walking across the park."

Sara preceded him into the hall, and they stood chatting together by the
tea-table until the sound of voices announced the arrival of the rest of
the party.

"Here they are!" exclaimed Durward, hurrying forward to meet them, while
Sara followed a trifle hesitatingly, conscious of a sudden accession of
shyness.

Notwithstanding the charming letter she had received from Mrs. Durward,
begging her to remain at Barrow Court exactly as long as it suited
her, now that the moment had come which would actually install the
new mistress of the Court, she began to feel as though her continued
presence there might be regarded rather in the light of an intrusion.

Mrs. Durward's letter might very well have been dictated only by a
certain superficial politeness, or, even, solely at the instance of
her husband, and it was conceivable that the writer would be none too
pleased that her invitation had been so literally interpreted.

In the course of a few seconds of time Sara contrived to work herself
up into a condition bordering upon panic. And then a very low contralto
voice, indescribably sweet, and with an audacious ripple of laughter
running through it, swept all her scruples into the rubbish heap. There
was no doubting the sincerity of the speaker.

"It was so nice of you not to run away, Miss Tennant." As she spoke,
Mrs. Durward shook hands cordially. "Poor Geoffrey couldn't help being
the heir, you know, and if you'd refused to stay, he'd have felt just
like the villain in a cinema film. You've saved us from becoming the
crawling, self-reproachful wretches." Then she turned and beckoned to
her son. "This is Tim," she said simply, but the quality of her voice
was very much as though she had announced: "This is the sun, and moon,
and stars."

As mother and son stood side by side, Sara's first impression was that
she had never seen two more beautiful people. They were both tall, and a
kind of radiance seemed to envelope them--a glory imparted by the sheer
force of perfect