old me?"

"For God's sake, don't jest with me, my child!" said the doctor,
putting a trembling hand on her arm. "Is anything--settled?"

"Do I ever jest when people are in earnest? And how can I tell you if
it's settled?" said Sarah, in a tone between laughing and weeping.
"I--I'm going there to-night. I oughtn't to have said anything about
it, only I knew how much you wanted her to be happy. And--she's going
to be--that's all."

The doctor was silent for a. moment, and Sarah looked away from him,
though she was conscious that he was gazing fixedly at her face. But
she did not know that he saw neither her blushing cheeks, nor the
groups of tall fern on the red earth-bank beyond her, nor the
whitewashed cob walls of Happy Jack's cottage. His dreaming eyes saw
only Lady Mary in her white gown, weeping and agitated, stumbling over
the threshold of a darkened room into the arms of John Crewys.

"You said you wished it," said Sarah.

She stole a hasty glance at him, half frightened by his silence and
his pallor, remembering suddenly how little the fulfilment of his
wishes could have to do with his personal happiness.

The doctor recovered himself. "I wish it with all my heart," he said.
He tried to smile. "Some day, if you will, you shall tell me how you
managed it. But perhaps--not just now."

"Can't you guess?" she said, opening her eyes in a wonder stronger
than discretion.

How was it possible, she thought, that such a clever man should be so
dull?

The doctor shook his head. "You were always too quick for me, little
Sarah," he said. "I am only glad, however it happened, that--she--is
to be happy at last." He had no thoughts to spare for Sarah, or any
other. As she lingered he said absently, "Is that all?"

She looked at him, and was inspired to leave the remorseful and
sympathetic words that rushed to her lips unsaid.

"That is all," said Sarah, gently, "for the present."

Then she left him alone, and took her way down to the ferry.

CHAPTER XXI

"The very last of the roses," said Lady Mary.

She looked round the banqueting hall. The wax candles shed a radiance
upon their immediate surroundings, which accentuated the shadows of
each unlighted corner. Bowls of roses, red and white and golden,
bloomed delicately in every recess against the black oak of the
panels.

The flames were leaping on the hearth about a fresh log thrown into
the red-hot wood-ash. The two old sisters sat almost in the ch