You will come with us, won't you ?" "I think I must," replied Elisabeth.

"Although"-- negligently--"picnics are not much in my line." "Oh, Audrey's picnics aren't like other people's," rejoined Sara reassuringly.

"She runs them just as she runs everything else, on lines of combined perfection and informality! The lunch will be the production of a French chef, and the company a few carefully selected intimates." "Very well, I'll come--if you're sure Mrs.Maynard won't object to the introduction of a complete stranger." Sara regarded her affectionately.
"Have you ever met any one who 'objected' to you yet ?" she asked with some amusement.
Elisabeth made no answer.

Instead, she pointed to the Monk's Cliff, where the grey stone of Far End gleamed in the sunlight against its dark background of trees.
"Who lives there ?" she asked.

Sara's eyes followed the direction of her hand, and she smiled.
"_I'm_ going to live there," she answered.