' Sarre had been right, Irene was mouse like; small and dainty with a

face that just failed to be pretty and soft brown hair, she was also desperately shy.

Alethea set herself the task of making her feel at home and succeeded

so well that by the time they sat down to table Irene was quite

enjoying herself.

Alethea, watching Wien and, decided that he really was in love this time, and with someone who would suit him very well.

Irene might be shy, but she had a lovely smile and a charming voice and she dressed well.

The evening pa.s.sed off very well and when their visitors had gone, Alethea said in a satisfied voice: "He's really in love with her, isn't he--and she's a dear.

' "Matchmaking, Alethea?

' Sarre sounded amused.

"No, it's just nice to see two people so happy.

' She looked away, thinking of Nick.

"You still think of him, Alethea?

' Sarre's voice was as placid as usual.

"Not often.

' She smiled at him.

"T think I'll go up to bed, I've a lot to do tomorrow before we go.

' She wished him goodnight and went to her room, and only when she was

on the point of getting into bed did she remember that she had promised Jacomina that she would ask her father if he would drop her off at school in the morning because her bike needed repairing.

She slipped into her dressing gown and pattered downstairs; she hadn't

heard him come up to bed, he would be in his study still.

She made no sound, although the old house creaked and sighed all around her and the tick took of the great Friesian clock in the hall dripped with soft deliberation into the silence.

She gained the hall and slipped down its length to where she could see

the study door, half open.

The powerful reading lamp on Sarre's desk was on, shining on to his head and face, and she paused to look at him.

He looked bone weary, every line of his face highlighted.

He looked sad, too, and the sudden surge of feeling which gripped her was so strong that she stopped dead in her tracks.

It was with the greatest difficulty that she prevented herself from

rushing madly to him and throwing her arms round him and begging him not to look like that.

It was more than she could bear, she told herself, and how could she

ever have thought that she was in love with Nick when all the time it was Sarre she loved?

She stood, staring her fill at him, sitting there, unconscious of her peering at him from the darkened hall until presently, unable to trust herself to speak to him about something so mundane as a bicycle, she turned and crept back to her room where she climbed into her enormous bed, to sit up against her pillows and think what to do.

Why, for a start, did Sarre look so dreadfully unhappy?

Had something gone wrong at the hospital?

Was he worried about a patient?

Was he thinking about Anna?

She shied away from the idea, but it persisted, thrusting itself into the forefront of her thoughts, so that presently that was all she was thinking about.

She took a long time to go to sleep, because she had to go over all the conversations she had had with Sarre to try and find some clue, and then, tired out, she gave up worrying and allowed herself the luxury of a little daydreaming.

She woke once during the night and promised herself that she would try and find out in the morning if there was something worrying him.

But when she got downstairs, a little earlier than usual because she was so anxious to be with him, she found it quite impossible.

His good morning was as placid as usual, not a trace of worry was on his face, his manner towards her was just as usual, friendly.

He received her request about Jacomina with perfect equanimity, wanted to know if she were ready to leave with him directly after lunch and made a few casual remarks about his appointments for the morning.

With eyes made sharp by love, she studied his face covertly, loving every line of it.

Whatever had been making him look like that the night before, he had thrust out of sight--her sight.

He got up to go presently, stopping to drop a swift kiss on her cheek.

She felt herself stiffen as he did so and could have wept when he drew back quickly and with a brief: "T'll see you at lunch," left the room, calling to Jacomina as he did so.

She was ready and waiting when he got back, with a cold lunch on the table, her overnight bag in the hall and her case in Al's care ready to load.

She was wearing a new outfit, a blue patterned skirt and blouse with a little matching quilted waistcoat, and she had taken great care with her hair and face, not admitting to herself that it was a kind of insurance against the swift coolness she had felt when Sarre had left that morning.

Her fault too.

She need not have worried; he greeted her in his usual placid way, enquired if she would be ready to leave as soon as they'd had lunch, informed her that he had decided to take the Jaguar instead of the Bristol, and asked where the children had got to.

Before she could answer him, they arrived, launched themselves at him boisterously, begged him to bring them a present from Hamburg and sat down to eat their lunch.

Alethea, working away at a pleasant general conversation, found them ultra-polite, ready to answer if she spoke to them, careful to see that she had all she wanted and at the same time, just when she thought that she was getting somewhere, switching to Dutch, so that she was left out of the conversation.

Never for long, of course, Sarre saw to that.

She only hoped that the cold-shouldering she was getting wasn't as obvious to him as it was to her.

It was a relief to be in the car at last, with the prospect of several days with Sarre.

It was exciting, and she tried not to show it too much, asking questions about their journey and his work in Hamburg, talking about the children because she sensed that he would like that, and presently, when they reached and crossed the German border, there were questions to ask about the country they were going through.

They stopped for tea at a pleasant little cafe outside Oldenburg, halfway through their two-hundred mile journey, and soon after joined the motorway.

The Hamburg skyline was clear against the early evening sky as they neared the city; lovely slender spires and the ugly rectangles of modern buildings thrusting up into the blue above them.

Alethea took her interested gaze off them long enough to look admiringly at Sarre and exclaim: "You do know your way around, don't you?

' "I've been before oh, several times, and I only know the main streets of the city.

We're going to the hospital first, if you don't mind it's over there, you can see it already, that large square building; it has more than a thousand beds.

Then we'll go on to the hotel.

' He invited her to go in with him when they reached the hospital, but she refused nicely and was glad of it when she saw the faint relief on his face.

"T'll be about ten minutes," he told her.

"If I'm much longer than that I'll send someone out with a message.

' He was as good as his word and Alethea jeered silently at herself for the panic she had been in until she had seen him coming unhurriedly out of the hospital again.

He had two men with him, who accompanied him to the car and who were introduced as two of his colleagues, who bowed over her hand and looked her over with interest, expressing the wish that she would enjoy her brief stay.

On their way once more, she waited for Sarre to tell her something of them, but his laconic: "Well, that's settled," seemed to be the sum of any information she could expect.

She murmured something she hoped sounded like wifely agreement and then as they reached the Binnenalster, exclaimed excitedly: "Oh, Sarre, look, all that beautiful water and the yachts!

' "It's rather nice, isn't it?

The Outer Alster is very much larger.

The street we're in now is called the Virgin's Pa.s.sage.