unshine? Sara could not act contrary to her nature. Sad things depressed
her. She wanted to cause every one to be happy.

Her feelings were far deeper than I had imagined them to be. I liked the
way she spoke to Jill when she was bidding good-bye to us all.

'Jocelyn dear, promise me that you will be good to mother. She has no one
but you now to study her little ways and make her comfortable, and she is
not as young as she was, and things tire her.' Of course Jill promised
with tears in her eyes, and Sara went away smiling and radiant. Jill was
already trying to redeem her promise, as she hovered like a tall slim
shadow behind her mother's chair in the twilight.

'Come and sit down, Jocelyn, my dear,' observed Aunt Philippa at last, in
her motherly voice. When I looked again, Jill's black locks were bobbing
on her mother's lap, and the three seemed all talking together.

There was very little rest for any one during the next few days. Sara's
marriage had brought sundry relations from their country homes up to
town, and there was open house kept for all. Jill went sight-seeing with
the young people. Aunt Philippa drove some of the elder ladies to the
Academy, to the Grosvenor Gallery, to the Park, and other places.

Every day there were luncheon-parties, tea-parties, dinner-parties; the
long drawing-room seemed full every evening. Jill put on one or other of
her pretty new gowns, and played her pieces industriously; there was no
stealing away in corners now. There were round games for the young
people; now and then they went to the theatre or opera: no wonder Jill
was too tired and excited to open her lesson-books. My fortnight's visit
extended itself to three weeks. Aunt Philippa could not spare me; she
said I was much too useful to her and Uncle Brian. I wrote to Mrs. Barton
and also to Lady Betty, and I begged the latter to inform her brother
that I could not leave my relations just yet.

Lady Betty wrote back at once. She had given my message, she said, but
Giles had not seemed half pleased with it. She thought he was going away
somewhere, she did not know where; but he had told her to say that there
were no fresh cases, and that Robert Lambert was going on all right, and
that as I seemed enjoying myself so much it was a pity not to take a
longer holiday while I was about it, and he sent his kind regards; and
that was all. I suppose I ought to have been satisfied, but it struck me
that there was a flavour of sarc