The remainder of the letter dealt with the practical details concerning the proposed visit, and Sara, in a little flurry of joyous excitement, had hurried off to the Cliff Hotel and booked the best suite of rooms it contained for Elisabeth.

On her way home she encountered Garth in the High Street, and forthwith proceeded to acquaint him with her news.

“I’ve just been fixing up rooms at the ‘Cliff’ for a friend of mine who is coming down here,” she said, as he turned and fell into step beside her.  “A woman friend,” she added hastily, seeing his brows knit darkly.

“So much the better!  But I could have done without the importation of any friends of yours—­male or female—­just now.  They’re entirely superfluous”—­smiling.

“Well, I’m glad Mrs. Durward is coming, because—­”

“Who did you say?” broke in Garth, pausing in his stride.

“Mrs. Durward—­Tim’s mother, you know,” she explained.  She had confided to him the history of her brief engagement to Tim.

Trent resumed his walk, but more slowly; the buoyancy seemed suddenly gone out of his step.

“Don’t you think,” he said, speaking in curiously measured tones, “that, in the circumstances, it will be a little awkward Mrs. Durward’s coming here just now?”

Sara disclaimed the idea, pointing out that it was the very completeness of Elisabeth’s conception of friendship which was bringing her to Monkshaven.

“When does she come?” asked Trent.

“On Thursday.  I’m very anxious for you to meet her, Garth.  She is so thoroughly charming.  I think it is splendid of her not to let my broken engagement with Tim make any difference between us.  Most mothers would have borne a grudge for that!”

“And you think Mrs. Durward has overlooked it?”—­with a curious smile.

Sara enthusiastically assured him that this was the case.

“I wonder!” he said meditatively.  “It would be very unlike Elis—­unlike any woman”—­he corrected himself hastily—­“to give up a fixed idea so easily.”

“Well”—­Sara laughed gaily.  “Nowadays you can’t compel a person to marry the man she doesn’t want—­nor prevent her from marrying the man she does.”

“I don’t know.  A determined woman can do a good deal.”

“But Elisabeth isn’t a bit the determined type of female you’re evidently imagining,” protested Sara, amused.  “She is very beautiful and essentially feminine—­rather a wonderful kind of person, I think.  Wait till you see her!”

“I’m afraid,” said Trent slowly, “that I shall not see your charming friend.  I have to run up to Town next week on—­on business.”

“Oh!” Sara’s disappointment showed itself in her voice.  “Can’t you put it off?”

He halted outside a tobacconist’s shop.  “Do you mind waiting a moment while I go in here and get some baccy?”

He disappeared into the shop, and Sara stood gazing idly across the street, watching a jolly little fox-terrier enjoying a small but meaty bone he had filched from the floor of a neighbouring butcher’s shop.