But here was Betty, serene and smiling, as though she had been accustomed to breakfast with me every morning of her life, off to the hospital, with a hard little idea in her humorous head concerning Mrs.
Tufton's conversion.
The only sign she gave of last night's storm was when, by way of good-bye, she bent down and kissed my cheek.
"You know," she said, "I love you too much to thank you." And she went off with her brave little head in the air.
In the afternoon I went to Wellings Park.

Sir Anthony was away, but Lady Fenimore was in.

She showed me a letter she had received from Betty in reply to her letter of condolence: "My dears, "It is good to realise one has such rocks to lean on.

You long to help and comfort me.

Well, I'll tell you how to do it.