“Then you honestly don’t – don’t want to get married?”

All at once his grey eyes were disconcerting hard grey pools of mockery. “What gives you that impression?” he asked. “Something I said about a miracle depriving me of the opportunity to become the husband of one of the most delightful and enchanting young women I’ve ever set eyes on? Substitute the word ‘disaster’ for ‘miracle’ and you’ll realise that the one thing I’m looking forward to is getting married! In fact, I find it hard to wait… And that’s easily understandable, isn’t it?”

Charlotte felt herself turning a dull, but rather painful, red. He was amusing himself at her expense… She realised that. And although she couldn’t quite understand the reason he seemed to think it was no more than she deserved that she should be treated unkindly. Between the almost feminine fringes of his thick black eyelashes his eyes held her in a sort of contempt… And with her knowledge of all that she had done for him in the past few days, including the sacrifice of her own bedroom

– that seemed to her a little unfair. In fact, unreasonable, unless it was the result of his amnesia.

She stared back at him suddenly a little critically and curiously. Just how much did he remember of his past?

A little girl with red hair!

“I was a very plump little girl,” she remarked suddenly and soberly. “I had a large number of freckles, too.”

“You had nothing of the kind… And you were as slim as a sprite! ” “When you came here the other day to look over the house Waterloo behaved in a most extraordinary manner. He was most unfriendly towards you! ”

“He was not.” He seemed complacently satisfied because he was able to make the admission. “He was almost effusively friendly.” She gathered up the empty glass that had held his hot milk drink, and made for the door.

“Good-night, Mr. Tremarth,” she said softly. “I hope you have an absolutely undisturbed night, and are very much better in the morning!”

When she joined Hannah in the drawing room she was both looking and feeling extremely thoughtful, but Hannah was curled up on a settee in front of the television set that had been installed a few days before, and was not in a mood to be distracted. Her attention was, in fact, glued to the television screen, and she answered abstractedly when Charlotte spoke to her.

“Sit down,” she advised, “and put your feet up. Looking after invalids in a house of this sort is rather more than a trifle exhausting. If we were to go in for it in a big way we’d have to have a lift installed.”

Charlotte ignored her advice, and wandered rather aimlessly about the room. She was in no mood to talk, but there was something she might have asked Hannah if the latter had not been so obviously wrapped up in the development of an exciting television drama. But what was really rather remarkable was the way she fairly sprang to her feet and blushed like an eager schoolgirl when a tap came on the open French window and Dr. Mackay, without waiting for an invitation to do so, walked in between the quiet grey falls of brocade curtaining and greeted them with the coolness and assurance of an old and well-tried friend.

“It’s a wonderful night,” he observed. “I wondered whether one or other of you would care for a breath of air? I realise you’ve got a parent to attend to, but it doesn’t need two of you to sit with him and hold his hand, and in any case I imagine by this time he’s settled down for the night?” and he looked directly at Hannah as he spoke.

Charlotte rose at once to the situation. She smiled at Dr. Mackay as if she was only faintly amused by his rather appealing transparency, and agreed that there was little more they could do for their patient that night. But he would be the first to disapprove of them leaving him alone in the house, and she suggested that Hannah took advantage of the opportunity to stretch her legs… despite the fact that it had been Hannah who was the strong advocate of taking the weight off their feet.

“It’s wonderful in the garden at this hour,” she said. “But if you feel like going further… say a visit to the Three Sailors, I shan’t mind,” she assured them.

Hannah fairly beamed at her.

“You really mean that?” she asked.

“Of course. And don’t forget, there is a man in the house… even if he isn’t quite clear about who he is at the moment! ”

While Hannah rushed off to change and make herself look as attractive as possible for the unexpected treat ahead of her, Dr. Mackay accepted a drink from Charlotte, and sat on the end of a settee while he drank it.

“I am off duty to-night,” he admitted, “and if the alcohol content of this glass of sherry upsets the balance of my blood Hannah can take over the wheel of the car and drive us to the village.”

“I’m afraid it’s not very good sherry,” Charlotte apologised. She started to wander up and down over the pearl- grey carpets. “Dr. Mackay! ” she said suddenly.

;Yes?” He smiled at her, secretly agreeing with her about the quality of the sherry but far too naturally polite to make comments on it aloud. “Anything I can do for you?” he wanted to know.

“Not me, precisely.” She seemed to hesitate. “Dr. Mackay…”

“I’m at your service if you want anything, you know,” he told her affably. “Even if it’s free advice. But as you look extremely healthy and charming to me, I’m sure it’s not that.”

“No, I – ” She picked up a porcelain ginger jar, and then put it back again. “It’s about Mr. Tremarth! He seems to be making quite a good recovery, but I’m a little puzzled about – about his amnesia. He remembers some things, but not others. He doesn’t even remember that he became engaged to be married shortly before he met with his accident! ”

The doctor smiled humorously.

“Perhaps he regretted becoming engaged as soon as he’d committed himself, and now he’s particularly vague on that point because he’d get out of it if he could – and he hadn’t all the right gentlemanly instincts!

“But the young woman in question is quite lovely_”

“Yes. I saw her in the village about ten o’clock this morning.”

“And you – you do agree that she’s – extremely attractive?”

Dr. Mackay smiled suddenly and more broadly. He set down his glass on a little occasional table, and then rose and walked across to her and patted her on the shoulder.

“As attractive as they come. And I admit it’s hard on her if she can’t get him to fix a day for the wedding, but I shall strongly advise him to turn his back on the delights of matrimony for a while yet. For one thing it would be far from satisfactory from his point of view if he married a young woman – though wholly desirable – without being perfectly clear who she is; and from her point of view it could even be disastrous. I shall do something I’ve never done before and issue a certificate that he isn’t fit to marry if he desires it – and she is rather too persuasive. If he doesn’t desire it I shall have a good talk to him, and we’ll see what effect that has.”

Charlotte appeared imperceptibly to brighten.

“He can be very obstinate,” she remarked.

“So can I,” and his square chin told her that he was not exaggerating. “I – I don’t mind how long he stays here… I mean,” as he regarded her somewhat quizzically, “we did once talk – Hannah and I

– of running a nursing-home, and turning this place into one, and naturally we – we don’t want to lose our first patient too soon.” “Naturally,” and he sounded almost soothing.

“We’d like Mr. Tremarth to be really fit before he leaves.” “Naturally,” the doctor said again.

Hannah appeared, and she was looking so glamorous that Charlotte could hardly believe the evidence of her eyes. Lately Hannah had taken to using more make-up, and it suited her amazingly. She had also taken up the hem of her one really smart dinner-dress, and the combined effect of a slim shift-like dress that displayed her naturally pretty knees and about two discreet inches of her attractive thighs, rather heavily darkened eyelashes and a warm pink lipstick undoubtedly caused Dr. Mackay to lose his medical poise for a moment. He stared at her, and his eyes started to glow – and his excellently cared for teeth flashed in an approving smile.

“All this for the Three Sailors?” he said. “The landlord ought to stand us free drinks! ”

Charlotte watched them go, and she watched the tail light of their car as it disappeared down the drive. Once it had vanished she stepped out on to the lawn and felt the coolness of the night breeze as it fanned her cheeks and her bare arms, and she inhaled the perfume of the roses somewhat excitingly mixed with the tangy odour of the sea.

All around her the gardens of Tremarth spread in summer beauty under the stars, and it was the far-away brilliance of the stars as she lifted her eyes to them that made her feel suddenly and quite extraordinarily lonely. It was a loneliness of the spirit – an acute loneliness, because the two who had just left her were very obviously

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