’I am very sorry to disappoint you, but I must ask you to give up this idea, my darling; it would not be right in our position:  surely you must see that.’

‘No, Donald, I do not see it a bit,’ she answered quickly.

’Then will you be satisfied with my seeing it, and give it up for my sake, dear?’

I knew when they came back into the room that he had got his way.  Sara was smiling as happily as usual:  her disappointment had not gone very deep.  Her future husband would have very little trouble with her.  She was neither self-willed nor selfish.  She wanted to be happy herself and make other people happy; she would be easily guided.

When we left the Park Colonel Ferguson rode off to his club, and we drove home rather quickly.  There were some visitors waiting for Sara in the drawing-room, so I went up to my old room to take off my bonnet.  Martha would unpack my boxes, Aunt Philippa told me, as she gave me another kiss in the hall.

I had not been there for five minutes when I heard flying footsteps down the passage, and the next moment Jill’s strong arms had taken me by the shoulders and turned me round.

‘Now, Jill, I don’t mean to be strangled as usual’; but she left me no breath for more.

’Oh, my dear, precious old bear, this is too good to be true!  I nearly cried with joy this morning at the idea of seeing you in your old room and knowing you will be here a whole fortnight.  I declare, after all, Sara is very nice to get married.’

No, Jill was not changed; she was as real and big and demonstrative as usual, but somehow she looked nicer.

‘You must be quick,’ she continued, ’for father has come in, and Clayton has taken in the tea.  We must go down directly; but I want you to see Miss Gillespie first.’  And Jill looked proud and eager as she led me down the passage.

The schoolroom was still the same dull back room that Aunt Philippa thought so conducive to her young daughter’s studies, but it certainly looked more cheerful this evening.

The window was opened.  There was a window-box full of gay flowers.  A great bowl of my favourite wall-flowers was on the table, and another vase, with trails of laburnum and lilac, was on Jill’s little table.  The fresh air and sunshine and the sweet scent of the flowers had quite transformed the dingy room.  There was new cretonne on the old sofa, a handsome cloth on the centre-table, and a new easy-chair.

Miss Gillespie was sitting by the window, reading.  She had an interesting face and rather sad gray eyes, but her manner was decidedly prepossessing.

She looked at her pupil with affection.  Evidently Jill’s abruptness and awkwardness were not misunderstood by her.

‘I want you two to like each other,’ Jill had said, without a pretence of introduction; and we had both laughed and extended our hands.

‘I seem to know you already, Miss Garston,’ she said, in a pleasant voice.  ’Jocelyn talks about you so much that you cannot be a stranger to me.—­Do you know your father has come in, dear?’ turning to Jill.