Noel sought her company incessantly, and every opportunity was given them of spending time in one another's society. For five glowing, heather-surrounded days and five breathless, moonlit evenings, they became the centre of their tiny world.
Then Lady Isabel said one night to her daughter:
"You've enjoyed this visit, haven't you, darlin'? I'm sorry we're movin' on."
"Oh," said Alex faintly, "are we really leaving tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow morning, by the early train," her mother assented cheerfully.
The true instinct of the feeble, to clutch at an unripe prize lest it be taken from them, made Alex wonder desperately if she could not postpone her departure.
But she dared not make any such suggestion, and Lady Isabel, looking at her dismayed face, laughed a little as though at the unreason of a child. Alex blushed with shame as she thought that her mother might have guessed what was in her mind. That evening, however, Lady Isabel came into her room as she was dressing for dinner.
"I thought you'd like to put this over your shoulders, Alex," she said negligently. "It will improve that cream-coloured frock of yours."
It was a painted scarf that she held out, and she stood gazing critically while the maid laid it across Alex' shoulders.
"You look so nice, darling child. Are you ready?"