Yet she longed, with a woman’s natural longing, to hear him say in actual words all that his whole attitude towards her had implied, craved for the moment when the beloved voice should ask for that surrender which in spirit she had already made.

She rose early, with a ridiculous feeling that it would bring the time a little nearer, and Jane Crab stared in amazement when she appeared downstairs while yet the preparations for breakfast were hardly in progress.

“You’re no worse for your outing, then, Miss Tennant,” she observed, adding shrewdly:  “I’d as lief think you were the better for it.”

Sara laughed, flushing a little.  Somehow she did not mind the humorous suspicion of the truth that twinkled in Jane’s small, boot-button eyes, but she sincerely hoped that the rest of the household would not prove equally discerning.

She need have had no fears on that score.  Dr. Selwyn had barely time to swallow a cup of coffee and a slice of toast before rushing off in response to an urgent summons from a patient, whilst Molly seemed entirely preoccupied with the contents of a letter, in an unmistakably masculine handwriting, which had come for her by the morning’s post.  As for Mrs. Selwyn, she was always too much engrossed in analyzing the symptoms of some fresh ailment she believed she had acquired to be sensible of the emotional atmosphere of those around her.  Her own sensations—­whether she were too hot, or not quite hot enough, whether her new tabloids were suiting her or whether she had not slept as well as usual—­occupied her entire horizon.

This morning she was distressed because the hairpins Sara had purchased for her the previous day differed slightly in shape from those she was in the habit of using.

Sara explained that they were the only ones obtainable.

“At Bloxham’s, you mean, dear.  Oh, well, of course, you couldn’t get any others, then.  Perhaps if you had tried another shop—­” Mrs. Selwyn paused, to let this suggestion sink in, then added brightly:  “But, naturally, I couldn’t expect you to spend your whole morning going from shop to shop looking for my particular kind of hairpin, could I?”

Sara, who had expended a solid hour over that very occupation, was perfectly conscious of the reproach implied.  She ignored it, however.  Like every one else in close contact with Mrs. Selwyn, she had learned to accept the fact that the poor lady seriously believed that her whole life was spent in bearing with admirable patience the total absence of consideration accorded her.

When she descended from Mrs. Selwyn’s room Sara was amazed to find that the hands of the clock only indicated half-past ten.  Surely no morning had ever dragged itself away so slowly!

At two o’clock she and Molly were both due to lunch with Mrs. Maynard at Greenacres, and she was radiantly aware that Garth Trent would be included among the guests.  Between them, Audrey, and the Herricks, and Sara had succeeded in enticing the hermit within the charmed circle of their friendship, and he could now be depended upon to join their little gatherings—­“provided,” as he had bluntly told Audrey, “that you can put up with my manners and morals.”