"And what it must be to you," sobbed Sarah, "the day you were to have been so happy, to see him come back like that! No wonder you are sad. One feels one could never do enough to—to make it up to him."
"But I'm far more happy than sad," said Lady Mary; and to prove her words she leant back upon the cushions and cried.
"You're not," said Sarah, kneeling by her; "how can you be, my darling, sweet Lady Mary? But you must be happy," she said; and her odd, deep tones took a note of coaxing that was hard to resist. "Think how proud every one will be of him, and how—how all the other mothers will envy you! You—you mustn't care so terribly. It—it isn't as if he had to work for his living. It won't make any real difference to his life. And he'll let you do everything for him—even write his letters—"
"Oh, Sarah, Sarah, stop!" said Lady Mary, faintly. "It—it isn't that."
"Not that!" said Sarah, changing her tone. She pounced on the admission like a cat on a mouse. "Then why do you cry?"
Lady Mary looked up confused into the severely inquiring young face.
Sarah's apple-blossom beauty, as was to have been expected, had increased a thousand-fold since her school girl days. She had grown tall to match the plumpness of her figure, which had not decreased. Her magnificent hair showed its copper redness in every variety of curl and twist upon her white forehead, and against her whiter throat.
She was no longer dressed in blue cotton. Lady Tintern knew how to give such glorious colouring its true value. A gauzy, transparent black flowed over a close-fitting white gown beneath, and veiled her fair arms and neck. Black bébé ribbon gathered in coquettishly the folds which shrouded Sarah's abundant charms, and a broad black sash confined her round young waist. A black chip hat shaded the glowing hair and the face, "ruddier than the cherry, and whiter than milk;" and the merry, dark blue eyes had a penthouse of their own, of drooping lashes, which redeemed the boldness of their frank and open gaze.
"If it is not that—why do you cry?" she demanded imperiously.
"It's—just happiness," said Lady Mary.