thin,
tanned face, and he moved uneasily.

Sarah, too, was changed; but not even Peter could regret the change in
Sarah.

The loveliness of his mother, refined and white and delicate as she
was, did not appeal to him; but Sarah, in her radiant youth, with her
brilliant colouring--fresh as a May morning, buxom as a dairymaid,
scornful as a princess--had struck Sir Peter dumb with admiration,
though he had hitherto despised young women. It almost enraged him to
remember that this stately beauty had ever been an impudent little
schoolgirl, with a turned-up nose and a red pigtail. In days gone by,
Miss Sarah had actually fought and scratched the spoilt boy, who tried
to tyrannize over his playmate as he tyrannized over his mother and
his aunts. On the other hand, the recollection of those early days
also became precious to Peter for the first time.

Sarah!

It was difficult to be sentimental on the subject, but difficulties
are easily surmounted by a lover; and though Sarah's childhood
afforded few facilities for ecstatic reverie, still--there had been
moments, and especially towards the end of the holidays, when he and
Sarah had walked on the banks of the river, with arms round each
other's necks, sharing each other's toffee and confidences.

Poor Sarah had been first despatched to a boarding school as
unmanageable, at the age of seven, and thereafter her life had been a
changeful one, since her father could not live without her, and her
mother would not keep her at home. She had always presented a lively
contrast to her elder brothers, who were all that a parent's heart
could desire, and too old to be much interested in their little
rebellious sister.

Her high spirits survived disgrace and punishment and periodical
banishment. Though not destitute of womanly qualities, she was more
remarkable for hoydenish ones; and her tastes were peculiar and
varied. If there were a pony to break in, a sick child to be nursed, a
groom to scold, a pig to be killed--there was Sarah; but if a frock to
try on, a visit to be paid, a note to be written--where was she?

Peter, recalling these things, tried to laugh at himself for his
extraordinary infatuation of the previous day; but he knew very well
in his heart that he could not really laugh, and that he had lain
awake half the night thinking of her.

Sarah had spent the rest of the day at Barracombe after Peter's
return, and had been escorted home late in the evening. Could he