by Betty Neels
"A rabbit snare."
Sarah was set down on the bed, and he bent to take Charles. "I'm going to run this chap to the vet just to make sure that there aren't any bones broken." At her worried look, he said, "I'll bring him straight back. Now, be a good girl and do as Mrs. Legge tells you." He smiled at her then with such tenderness that her heart turned over, and then he kissed her cheek and went away.
Mrs. Legge, watching, stored this interesting tit-bit away to pass on in the servants' hall presently. If that was the way the wind was blowing, then she for one would be pleased. Romantic thoughts, long buried in Mrs. Legge's bosom, took over from her prosaic musing.
Sarah was in her bed, clean and her hair neatly plaited, drinking the tea Parsons had brought over for her and gobbling the bread and butter with it, when the Professor returned. He had Charles with him, tucked under an arm, and he set the cat down on the counterpane.
He nodded at Sarah. "He's all right. A bit battered, but nothing that won't clear up with food and rest." He turned to Parsons. "Do you suppose I might have a cup and share Sarah's tea? And can I leave it to Mrs. Legge to let Lady Wesley know that Sarah is back?" He glanced at his watch. "I must get back to town as soon as possible."
"I'll find Mrs. Legge right away, sir, and bring you some tea and a slice or two of toast, and is there anything else?"
"I'd like to see Knott before I go-perhaps I might come over to the house before I leave."
"Yes, sir. Do you want Mrs. Legge to come over?"
"Er-no, I don't think that's necessary, thank you. I'll let her know if there is anything needed for Sarah."
Parsons hurried away, bursting to tell everyone that Professor Nauta was going to have his tea with Sarah.
"And why not?" Cork wanted to know. "After all, he is a professor of medicine and regards Sarah as his patient."
Parsons buttered the toast. "If you ask me, he regards her as a great deal more than that."
"Let us have no gossip," decreed Mr. Cork, at his most severe.
The Professor sat himself on the side of Sarah's bed and took a good look at her. Her face was still pale, and her nose and eyes rather pink. Her hair hung in its plait over one shoulder. He would have liked to have undone the plait and let her abundant hair fall loose, but he reminded himself that this was a professional visit. "I'll take a look at that arm," he said with detached civility.
She extended it obediently, wincing because it hurt. "I'm very sorry," she said, and was stopped by his,
"Whatever for?"
She went on in a rush, "You said last time, "Let this be the last time we meet," and I have tried to keep out of your way, really I have."
He was examining the scratches on her hand where she had tugged at the wire. He asked, without looking up, "Why?"
She answered him with a touch of peevishness. "I have just told you…"
He opened his bag and took out impregnated gauze and strapping and covered the weal. "Not quite all, I think. Ah, here is my tea."
He gave her instructions while he ate and drank. "Bed today. You may get up tomorrow, but positively no work. I shall see Mrs. Legge before I go, so don't try to do your own thing, Sarah." He ignored her indignant gasp. "Charles will be fine by tomorrow; give him small meals every hour or so and let him sleep."
He got up. "I must go, I've a round at midday." He took her hand in his. "I shall be back, Sarah."
"I haven't thanked you," she began.
"Something I look forward to when we next meet."
"But you don't want to meet…"
"We'll discuss that later. Goodbye, Sarah."
He had gone and, because she had wanted him to stay and never go away again and her arm ached and she was tired, she had a good cry before she at last went to sleep.
She slept for most of that day, and each time she woke there was someone with an appetising meal on a tray.
During the afternoon Lady Wesley came to see her. "How fortunate that I decided to telephone Radolf," she observed complacently. "I am, when necessary, very quick-thinking, you know, Sarah. He was here very swiftly." She paused and frowned. "I very much doubt if he had had time for dinner-so cool and calm too, as though searching for anyone at eight o'clock at night was a perfectly normal thing to do. Of course, Trotter was a great help… Is your arm painful?"
"Only a little, thank you, my lady," said Sarah in her housemaid's voice. "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble."
Lady Wesley waved a tolerant hand. "I must say I was most upset when Cork told me that you were missing, but you are a very nice girl, doing work which is not at all suitable for you, and I am most relieved to know that this has ended happily. I understand that Radolf has told Mrs. Legge that you are to remain here today, and on no account are you to do any work until he has seen you again." Her eye fell on the sleeping Charles. "I am so glad that your cat is safe."
It seemed to Sarah that no one could do enough for her. A constant stream of visitors came through the door, and whenever anyone had a moment to spare from their duties they popped in. Miss Mudd came with some old copies of Woman's Own, Parsons brought some creamed chicken for Charles and Mrs. Legge, on an eagle eyed visit, had a bunch of roses from the gardener.
She put them into a glass jar and studied Sarah as she did so, mindful of the Professor's strict instructions. "Now, don't you go doing anything silly, Sarah. You stay there in bed, and tomorrow you can get up and dress and sit out in the yard."
"I could do quite a lot, Mrs. Legge," said Sarah. "It's only my arm."
"I'm carrying out the Professor's orders, and him being a very clever doctor, he knows what he's saying, so you'll do as you're told, Sarah."Sarah said meekly, "Yes, Mrs. Legge, and please thank Mr. Timms for the roses, they're beautiful."
Mrs. Legge nodded briskly. "And you're to eat every morsel. I send over to you. Mr. Cork has most kindly decanted a bottle of port for you. You will drink a glass after your supper."
Sarah said, still meek, "Yes, Mrs. Legge, and please thank Mr. Cork for being so kind."
The port would have come from Lady Wesley's cellar, but all the same it was a kind thought. Sarah drank it and wondered when the Professor would come again. "Although I must be careful," she told Charles. "I can manage quite well until he smiles at me, but then I go all to pieces."
Except for her painful arm, she felt quite herself after a good night's sleep and, obedient to Mrs. Legge, she got up, dressed with a little help from Parsons and went into the yard with Charles in his basket. It was a lovely day and she would have liked to have gone for a stroll, but Mrs. Legge was taking the Professor's instructions seriously. Beyond wandering round the yard, Sarah was forbidden to go further.
That evening she begged Mrs. Legge to let her go back to her work in the morning. Mrs. Legg was adamant. "Professor Nauta will give me fresh instructions during the day, Sarah. You may dress, of course, and come over to the house for your breakfast, but you are to do nothing until he gives his permission."
"Yes, Mrs. Legge, but I could shuck the peas for you, and string the beans."
So she sat in the sun on a patch of grass just beyond the cottages, with Charles stretched out beside her, the bowl of peas on her lap, the pods in a tidy pile in the basket beside her. It was warm in the sun, and if it hadn't been for her heartache over the Professor, she would have been happy thinking about him. When she looked up and saw him standing there, watching her, she didn't quite believe it.
"How funny, I was thinking about you," she said before she could stop herself. Then rushed on, red in the face, "What I mean is, I was hoping that you would let me go back to work."
He smiled then and her heart did its familiar somersault. "Ah, yes, we have to talk about that. I hear from Mrs. Legge that you have been a very good patient." He came nearer, took the bowl of peas from her and picked up Charles. "Come with me, Sarah."
"Why?"
"What a girl you are for asking questions! Come along."
She got up uncertainly. "Well, if I must… But Mrs.
Legge is waiting for these peas."
"Then we'll take them to her."
So they went through the kitchen door and into the kitchen, where Sarah was surprised to find Cork, Knott, Mrs. Legge, Cook, Molly and Parsons-even Miss Mudd was there. They were having their coffee-break early, she supposed. They all smiled at her as she put the peas on the table and she looked uncertainly at the Professor, who said smoothly, "We shall be back," and smiled at them all. Then he ushered Sarah out again, and when she opened her mouth to speak said, "Hush, my dear," and walked her briskly round to the sweep where the Rolls was parked. "In you get," he invited, opening the door for her.
"No," said Sarah, "not until I know just what is happening."
He sighed, shut the door, opened the other door and put Charles on the back seat beside Trotter, then closed that door and faced her.
"We are going home. Somewhere where I should have taken you months ago…"
"Home," breathed Sarah. "Whose home?"
"Mine-ours, of course."
"No," said Sarah quite fiercely, and then, "Who is Lisse?"
A smile spread over the Professor's handsome features. "Aha, so that was the sticking-point. Lisse is my sister. She is getting married very shortly, but I think we shall marry before then."
Sarah gaped up at him, then pulled herself together. "You've started at the wrong end," she pointed out tartly. "You haven't even asked me. Besides, you never wanted to see me again."
He said quietly, "When I first became aware of you, my darling, I had no wish to marry and yet somehow I found myself thinking of you a great deal, and I didn't want that. I had become set in my ways and I had decided that, unless my dream girl turned up, I would not marry. However, quite soon I had to admit that you were my dream girl, part of my life and then all of it, so that I had no room for doubts."
"You could have mentioned this," observed Sarah sharply. "Especially when you found us in the wood and I-I needed to be comforted."
"It crossed my mind, my love, but it seemed to me that to get you and Charles back in safe hands was my first care. After all, we shall have the rest of our lives together." He put his arms around her. "I love you, darling Sarah. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, oh, yes, I will, Radolf. I love you too." If she had intended to say more she had no chance, as he bent to kiss her, but presently she lifted her head. "I shall have to give a week's notice, you know, and there's no one to do my work-it wouldn't be fair-"
"My dearest girl, I gave notice on your behalf when I got here this morning. Aunt Beatrice is sitting at her desk, spreading the news far and wide, and as for the servants' hall, I went to see them before I came to find you. I dare say that even at this moment they are having a whipround to buy us a butter dish or whatever…"
He looked up as he spoke, and saw Cork withdrawing his head smartly from a window. There was movement behind him, too-they were all there, watching. He bent his head again and kissed Sarah at some length.
"My things," said Sarah. "I must pack."
"Mrs. Brindle will have a toothbrush for you. You can buy anything you want tomorrow." He smiled gently at her. "I'll get a special licence; we can go down to Minster Lovell and be married there. Now, will you come with me, my dear darling?"
Sarah nodded. Unaware of the delighted faces watching them from the house, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"That was very nice," said the Professor. "We must do it again some time." He opened the car door once again. "In you get, my darling."
And Sarah got in.
