Sarah looked 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."