What did it matter?
Everything tasted of bliss.
'You have had absolutely nothing to eat,' said Mary, piteously, as the
dogcart came grinding round upon the dry gravel.
'Oh, I have done splendidly--thanks. I have just had a macaroon and some
of that capital gorgonzola. God bless you, dearest, and _a revoir, a
revoir_ to-morrow.'
'And to-morrow I shall be Mary Hammond,' cried Mary, clasping her hands.
'Isn't it capital fun?'
They were in the porch alone. The servants were all at dinner, save the
groom with the cart, Miss Mueller was still munching at the well-spread
table in the dining-room.
John Hammond folded his sweetheart in his arms for one brief embrace;
there was no time for loitering. In another moment he was springing into
the cart. A shake of the reins, and he was driving slowly down the steep
avenue.
'Life is full of partings,' Mary said to herself, as she watched the
last glimpse of the dogcart between the trees down in the road below,
'but this one is to be very short, thank God.'
She wondered what she should do with herself for the rest of the
afternoon, and finally, finding that she was not wanted by her
grandmother until afternoon tea, she set out upon a round of visits to
her favourite cottagers, to bid them a long farewell as a spinster.
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