wise, and shook her head. "Oh no," she quoth. "Those
aren't happy tears."

"You're too old, dear Sarah, to be an _enfant terrible_ still," said
Lady Mary; but Sarah was not so easily disarmed.

"I will know! Come, I'm your godchild, and you always spoil me. He's
not come back in one of his moods, has he?"

"Who?" cried Lady Mary, colouring.

"Who! Why, who are we talking of but Peter?" said Sarah, opening her
big-pupilled eyes.

"Oh no, no! He's changed entirely--"

"Changed!"

"I don't mean exactly changed, but he's--he's grown so loving and so
sweet--not that he wasn't always loving in his heart, but--

"Oh," cried Sarah, impatiently, "as if I didn't know Peter! But if
it wasn't _that_ which made you so unhappy, what was it?" She bent
puzzled brows upon her embarrassed hostess.

"Let me go, Sarah; you ask too much!" said Lady Mary. "Oh no, my
darling, I'm not angry! How could I be angry with my little loyal
Sarah, who's always loved me so? It's only that I can't bear to
be questioned just now." She caressed the girl eagerly, almost
apologetically. "I must have a few moments to recover myself. I'll go
quietly away into the study--anywhere. Wait for me here, darling, and
make some excuse for me if any one comes. I want to be alone for a few
moments. Peter mustn't find me crying again."

"Yes--that's all very well," said Sarah to herself, as the slight form
hurried from the drawing-room into the dark oak hall beyond. "But
_why_ is she unhappy? There is something else."

It was Dr. Blundell who found the answer to Sarah's riddle.

He had seen the signs of weeping on Lady Mary's face as she stumbled
over the threshold of the window into the very arms of John Crewys,
and his feelings were divided between passionate sympathy with his
divinity, and anger with the returned hero, who had no doubt reduced
his mother to this distressful state. The doctor was blinded by love
and misery, and ready to suspect the whole world of doing injustice to
this lady; though he believed himself to be destitute of jealousy, and
capable of judging Peter with perfect impartiality.

His fancy leapt far ahead of fact; and he supposed, not only that Lady
Mary must be engaged to John Crewys, but that she must have confided
her engagement to her son, and that Peter had already forbidden the
banns.

He wandered miserably about the grounds, within hearing of the
rejoicings; and had just made up his mind that he ought to go and join
th