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." "Yes--that's all very well," said Sarah to herself, as the slight form hurried from the drawing-room into the dark oak hall beyond.

"But _why_ is she unhappy?
There is something else." It was Dr.Blundell who found the answer to Sarah's riddle.
He had seen the signs of weeping on Lady Mary's face as she stumbled over the threshold of the window into the very arms of John Crewys, and his feelings were divided between passionate sympathy with his divinity, and anger with the returned hero, who had no doubt reduced his mother to this distressful state.

The doctor was blinded by love and misery, and ready to suspect the whole world of doing injustice to this lady; though he believed himself to be destitute of jealousy, and capable of judging Peter with perfect impartiality.
His fancy leapt far ahead of fact; and he supposed, not only that Lady Mary must be engaged to John Crewys, but that she must have confided her engagement to her son, and that Peter had already forbidden the banns.
He wandered miserably about the grounds, within hearing of the rejoicings; and had just made up his mind that he ought to go and join the speechmakers, when he perceived John Crewys himself standing next to Peter, apparently on the best possible terms with the hero of the day.
The doctor hastened round to the hall, intending to enter the drawing-room unobserved, and find out for himself whether Lady Mary had recovered, or whether John Crewys had heartlessly abandoned her to her grief.
The brilliant vision Miss Sarah presented, as she stood, drawn up to her full height, in the shaded drawing-room, met his anxious gaze as he entered.
"Why, Miss Sarah! Not gone back to London yet?
I thought you only came down for Whitsuntide." "Mamma wasn't well, so I am staying on for a few days.