and all the time looking at her with an enmity which left her both puzzled and a little frightened.

Frightened that they would never like her, never accept her into the family.

But she had plenty of spirit; she told herself that probably she was imagining the whole thing just because she had been so anxious that they should like her.

They might be jealous, afraid that she was going to take the lion's share of their father from them.

She was quite relieved to have hit on a likely reason, and when Sarre suggested that she might like to go to his study and telephone her grandmother, she agreed with alacrity.

He might be just as anxious to have his children to himself as they were to be with him.

Sarre left her once he had got the number and she settled down to a brief chat with her grandparent.

Everything was lovely, she declared, the house was a dream, the children were very like Sarre in looks and with such beautiful manners.

She talked away for five minutes until she felt that she had satisfied her grandmother's interest, asked a few questions about home, promised to telephone again, and rang off.

She didn't go back to the sitting room at once; ten minutes wasn't long enough.

She got up from Sarre's great leather chair and wandered round the room, having a good look.

It was as lofty as the other rooms in the house, a long, rather narrow room reached by a short pa.s.sage from the hall, its windows overlooking the side of the house.

She paused to look out on to the high wall which ran its length, a neat flower bed, gay with colour, between it and the flag path which ran beneath the window.

She wondered where it went and then resumed her tour.

There were bookshelves, of course, stuffed with books, mostly medical, in Dutch, German and English.

There were some rather lovely engravings on the walls, a desk piled high with books, papers, professional samples, photos of the children and an enormous diary, and a nice little chair drawn up to a small worktable, a charming Regency trifle with a green moire bag hanging from its frame.

Alethea stopped short: perhaps his first wife had sat there, embroidering, while he worked at the desk.

She ran her hand over the back of the velvet-covered chair, not liking to sit in it.

He wouldn't want her to anyway, and even if he did, she had never done embroidery in her life, she wouldn't know where to begin.

She made an instant resolve to try her hand at it at the first opportunity.

She was standing irresolutely in the middle of the room when Sarre came back.

"Finished?

' he wanted to know.

"We were wondering what had happened to you.

' She didn't try to explain, only smiled, a.s.sured him that she had

indeed finished and accompanied him back to the sitting room.

The children went away shortly afterwards--to do their homework, they explained.

They wished her goodnight in their almost perfect English, and then

lapsed into rather noisy Dutch, begging their father to do something or

other.

"There's this habit we have acquired," he explained, laughing.

"They like me to go upstairs and wish them goodnight.

I shall hand it over to you once we're married, Alethea.

' She saw the instant anger in their young faces.

"Oh, I don't know," she observed mildly,

"T think it sounds like a very pleasant custom.

I'll think up one for myself.

' She smiled at him.

"My father tucked me up when I was small.

' His blue eyes twinkled.

"T can think of several

answers to that, Alethea.

If I were ten years i younger and not so very out of practice, I might have tried one of them.

' She went faintly pink and then lost her pretty colour when she

remembered that Nick might have made just such a remark.

It was disconcerting when Sarre said softly: "You're remembering again, Alethea, you are forgetting what I said about turning the page.

' "T can't think why you put up with me," she told him shyly.

"T really must pull up my socks.

' The children had been listening, and now Sarel exclaimed: "But you do not wear socks, Alethea," which set them all laughing so that just for

a few moments they weren't hating her at all-indeed, they went upstairs, still laughing about the little joke, leaving Sarre and her together.

"There's half an hour before we need to change," said Sarre cheerfully.

"Shall we go into the garden?

It isn't large, but it's pretty.

' And once there, walking between the well-tended borders: "T quite forgot to tell you, there are one or two friends coming this evening: my partner and his wife, Wien and, of course, and his current girl-friend.

Doctor and Mevrouw Ardsch--he works with me a great deal, you'll like

his wife, and Doctor Sing ma and Doctor van Wevelen.

Anna Sing ma is my a.s.sistant and van Wevelen is the senior anaesthetist.

' "Oh," said Alethea faintly, 'are they coming to dinner?

' "Yes.

I thought it would be more fun for you if we had something of a

party.

' She agreed at once, a little hurt that her company wasn't sufficient

to amuse him on his first evening home, but he looked so pleased at his little surprise that she forced herself to a delight she didn't feel.

"T know we had decided to dine alone and go round the house, but anyone

can go with you some time or other and it's a good opportunity to meet some of the people you'll be seeing a good deal of in the future.

Anna thought it was a splendid idea.

' Anna did, did she?

thought Alethea, her mind busy with what she should wear.

The grey crepe, she decided, and those expensive grey satin sandals

which matched it so perfectly.

They parted presently and Alethea set about the business of making the most of herself, a not too difficult task, and as though everything was on her side for once, her hair went like a dream, her make-up presented no problems and the grey crepe looked better than ever.

She surveyed herself without conceit in the pier-gla.s.s in her room and went downstairs.

Sarre was in his study, the door was standing open and she could see him at the end of the pa.s.sage at his desk, but he must have been listening for her because he came to join her in the hall at once.