The doctor recovered himself. "I wish it with all my heart," he said. He tried to smile. "Some day, if you will, you shall tell me how you managed it. But perhaps—not just now."
"Can't you guess?" she said, opening her eyes in a wonder stronger than discretion.
How was it possible, she thought, that such a clever man should be so dull?
The doctor shook his head. "You were always too quick for me, little Sarah," he said. "I am only glad, however it happened, that—she—is to be happy at last." He had no thoughts to spare for Sarah, or any other. As she lingered he said absently, "Is that all?"
She looked at him, and was inspired to leave the remorseful and sympathetic words that rushed to her lips unsaid.
"That is all," said Sarah, gently, "for the present."
Then she left him alone, and took her way down to the ferry.
CHAPTER XXI
"The very last of the roses," said Lady Mary.
She looked round the banqueting hall. The wax candles shed a radiance upon their immediate surroundings, which accentuated the shadows of each unlighted corner. Bowls of roses, red and white and golden, bloomed delicately in every recess against the black oak of the panels.