If she went down to the shore with Robin she usually met with a querulous, and sometimes tearful, reception on her return, and though she steadily refused to admit that there was any reason on Vera's part for assuming this attitude, it influenced her none the less. Moreover, Vera could be genuinely pathetic upon occasion, and there was no disputing the fact that she stood in need of care--such care as only a woman could give. "I don't want a nurse," she would say plaintively. "I only want companionship and sympathy. Motoring is my only consolation, and I can't go motoring alone." And then the squire would draw her aside and beg her to bear with Vera's whims as far as possible since loneliness depressed her and she was the only person he knew whose company did not either tire her out or irritate her beyond endurance. It was not an easy position, but Juliet filled it to the best of her ability and with no small self-sacrifice. Yet in a sense it made her life the simpler, for she was still at that difficult stage when it is easier to stand still than to go forward. She saw Green when he came to the house, but they had not been alone together since the morning on the shore when her love had betrayed her. She had a feeling that he was biding his time. He had promised to be patient, and she knew he would keep his promise. Also, his time, like hers, was very fully occupied. Till the holidays came he would not have much liberty, and in her secret soul Juliet was thankful that this was so. For the present it was enough for her to hold this new joy close, close to her heart, to gaze upon it only in solitude,--a gift most precious upon which no other eyes might look. It was enough for her to feel the tight grasp of his hand when they met, to catch for an instant the quick gleam of understanding in his glance, the sudden flash of that smile which was for her alone. These things thrilled her with a gladness so strangely sweet that there were times when she marvelled at herself, and sometimes, trembling, wondered if it could possibly last. For nought in life had ever before shone so golden as this perfect dream. The very atmosphere she breathed was subtly charged with its essence. She was absurdly, superbly happy. "I believe this place suits you," the squire said to her once. "You look years younger than when you came." She received the compliment with her low, soft laugh. "I am--years younger," she said. He gave her a sharp look. "You are happy here? Not sorry you came?" "Oh, not in the least sorry," said Juliet. He nodded. "That's all right. You've done Vera a lot of good. She's getting almost docile. But as soon as this flower-show business is over, I want you to use all your influence to get her away. We'll go North and see if we can get a little strength into her." Again he looked at her shrewdly. "You won't mind coming too?" "But of course not," said Juliet. "I shall love it."