' She beamed at them both.

"T'll wish you very happy.

When will you marry?

' Alethea had to laugh.

"Granny, we're only just engaged!

But we thought in about six weeks' time.

' "T never did agree with long engagements.

I met your grandfather at a Christmas party and we married on New

Year's Day.

' She sighed.

"And very happy we were, too.

As you will be.

Come and give me a kiss, Alethea.

' Tea was a gay meal, with Mrs Bustle sharing it with them so that she

could hear the exciting news while she plied Mr van Diederijk with scones and cake and the little biscuits which were her particular

forte, but it was she and Mrs Thomas who did most of the talking. Sarre seemed content to sit back and allow the conversation to flow back and forth, joining in in his pleasant calm voice from time to time, while Alethea was almost totally silent.

She had said that she would marry him and burnt her boats behind her,

now she was beset with any number of doubts.

Supposing Nick wanted to marry her after all?

Supposing he asked her not to leave, to make it up and go on as

before?

Probably it would never be the same again, but all the same.

She bade her grandmother and Mrs Bustle goodbye with her usual

serenity, however, and got into the car beside Sarre with every

appearance of feeling completely content with her future, so it was a

little disconcerting when he observed: "T asked you to turn the page,

Alethea, I meant forwards, not back; it will serve no good purpose

brooding over what might have been.

' She coloured faintly.

"Oh--I didn't know, that is, it's hard not to remember--I didn't know it.

that you could see.

' He answered this incoherent remark with a wry smile.

"It was so very plain on your face, my dear.

Luckily your grandmother and Mrs Bustle were so busily engaged in your

wedding clothes and whether to have almond paste on the cake that they didn't notice.

' She turned to look at him.

"Are you sure it will be all right?

I will try, I promise you, but just to forget, like that.

I don't think I'm very good at it.

' "It gets easier with practice," said Sarre dryly.

"We'll stop for dinner, shall we?

There's a good place at Backhurst Mill.

' They dined unhurriedly and Alethea found herself relaxing under her companion's gentle flow of small talk.

The food was good and she found that she had quite an appet.i.te after all, and when Sarre remarked: "T shall be operating in the morning, shall I see you?

'she answered readily that she hoped so, aware that she really meant it.

Sarre made no effort to hurry back.

They reached the hospital shortly before midnight and even then they stood talking for a few minutes in its entrance.

"Thank you for my dinner and bringing me back," Alethea said politely, and then felt foolish at his: "T hardly think that you need to thank me, my dear.

Such small services will be my privilege in the future." "Oh, yes, of course." She smiled a little shyly at him, and then in a burst of confidence added: "You know, when I got up this morning I'd made up my mind to say no."

"And what made you change your mind?" he wanted to know quietly.

"T haven't the faintest idea.

' She smiled a little.

"But I won't change it again.

' He took her hand and then bent his head and kissed her, a quick light kiss which although it had meant nothing at all, stayed in her mind long after she had wished him goodnight and gone to her bed.

CHAPTER FOUR.

the day was well advanced before Alethea saw Sarre; she had sent a shattered leg to theatre, followed by a complicated fracture of the scapula and having supervised their safe return to their beds, had gone to her office to sort out the notes, fill in charts and catch up on the morning's work.

She was hot and a little untidy, for it was a warm morning and she hadn't paused since she had gone on duty at eight o'clock. She was also hungry and thirsty, for her dinner time had pa.s.sed, and she saw no chance of going down to the dining room.

Mary would make her a pot of tea and a sandwich presently and she could finish her writing while she took these homely refreshments, before going back on to the ward.

She was deciphering Sir Walter's notes, written in a spidery hand, when the door opened and Sarre walked in. He wasted no time in observing that she was busy but plunged at once into instructions about the shattered leg he had restored more or less to its original form that morning; only when he had finished did he ask: "You've been to your lunch?

' and when she said that no, she hadn't, added: "In that case could your estimable maid bring us a pot of tea?

Just while I explain the treatment for that shoulder.

' The tea came, sandwiches too, and Alethea pouring it, remarked:

"You've missed your lunch too, haven't you?

' She smiled at him and pushed her cap back a bit so that the curls escaped.

"Share these, I'll not have time to eat them all, anyway.

' She took a bite, surprised to find that she felt perfectly at ease with him, glad in fact that he was there.

She was pouring second cups when the door opened again and Nick came

in.

He stopped short when he saw Mr van Diederijk and the scowl on his good-looking face deepened.

Before he could say anything Sarre spoke.

"We're going over that case--the scapula, I'd like him on antibiotics

for a few days, to be on the safe side.

I have written it up.

' He lifted an eyebrow.

"Did you want to see Sister about one of the patients?