Sarah, who must have divined her secret all the while, and who, with the dauntlessness of youth, had not hesitated to force open the door into a world so bright that Lady Mary almost feared to enter it, but trembled, as it were, upon the threshold of her own happiness--and Peter's.
They were silent, holding each other in a close embrace, both conscious of the passing and repassing footsteps upon the gravel path without.
Sarah was the first to recover herself.

She put Lady Mary into her favourite chair, and came and knelt by her side.
"That's over, and I'm forgiven," she said softly.
"You will make my boy--happy ?" whispered Lady Mary.
"I can't tell whether he will be happy or not, if--if he marries me," said Sarah.

She appeared to smother a laugh.

"But Aunt Elizabeth seems reconciled to the idea.

I think you bewitched her this afternoon.