e speechmakers, when he perceived John Crewys himself standing next
to Peter, apparently on the best possible terms with the hero of the
day.

The doctor hastened round to the hall, intending to enter the
drawing-room unobserved, and find out for himself whether Lady Mary
had recovered, or whether John Crewys had heartlessly abandoned her to
her grief.

The brilliant vision Miss Sarah presented, as she stood, drawn up to
her full height, in the shaded drawing-room, met his anxious gaze as
he entered.

"Why, Miss Sarah! Not gone back to London yet? I thought you only came
down for Whitsuntide."

"Mamma wasn't well, so I am staying on for a few days. I am supposed
to be nursing her," said Sarah, demurely.

She was a favourite with the doctor, as she was very well aware, and,
in consequence, was always exceedingly gracious to him.

"Where is Lady Mary?" he asked.

She stole to his side, and put her finger on her lips, and lowered her
voice.

"She went through the hall--into the study. And she's alone--crying."

"Crying!" said the doctor; and he made a step towards the open door,
but Sarah's strong, white hand held him fast.

"Play fair," she said reproachfully; "I told you in confidence. You
can't suppose she wants _you_ to see her crying."

"No, no," said the poor doctor, "of course not--of course not."

She closed the doors between the rooms. "Look here, Dr. Blundell,
we've always been friends, haven't we, you and me?"

"Ever since I had the honour of ushering you into the world you now
adorn," said the doctor, with an ironical bow.

"Then tell me the truth," said Sarah. "Why is she unhappy, to-day of
all days?"

The doctor looked uneasily away from her. "Perhaps--the joy of Peter's
return has been too much for her," he suggested.

"Yes," said Sarah. "That's what we'll tell the other people. But you
and I--why, Dr. Blunderbuss," she said reproachfully, using the
name she had given him in her saucy childhood, "you know how I've
worshipped Lady Mary ever since I was a little girl?"

"Yes, yes, my dear, I know," said the doctor.

"You love her too, don't you?" said Sarah.

He started. "I--I love Lady Mary! What do you mean?" he said, almost
violently.

"Oh, I didn't mean _that_ sort of love," said Sarah, watching him
keenly. Then she laid her plump hand gently on his shabby sleeve. "I
wouldn't have said it, if I'd thought--"

"Thought what?" said the doctor, agitated.

"What I think now," said