Hawkins was the only one they encountered on their way out, and Mary took the proffered lunch-box with a smile that was very close to tears.

Her voice faltered over her words of thanks, and when she had been handed into the 'bus she dared not trust herself to look back at the faithful old servitor in the doorway.

Once, just as they swung around the curve that hid the beautiful grounds from sight, she leaned out for one more look, then hastily pulled down her veil.
At the station, as they sat waiting for her train, Betty said, "I'll write every week and tell you all the news, but don't feel that you must answer regularly.

I know how your time will be occupied.

But I should like a postal now and then, telling me how Jack is.