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She left the cottage with the girl's promise that she would come up to Glyntarrach the following day; she would also contact several of Emlyn's friends and ask them to come too, though only the quieter element, she had added with a smile of understanding at Helen.

Evan received the news of the impending arrivals with less enthusiasm and she wondered if he was already having second thoughts about his decision, but when she put it to him later that day, he shook his head in denial.

'
Of course I shan't go back on my word,' he said, as if she had suggested it. '1 don't deny I shall probably regret it before very long, they're a noisy bunch, but I don't have to see them.'

'
You're going to hide yourself away again!' she accused, and realized that a week ago she would never have ventured to speak to him like that. Now it seemed not to matter so much and he took no offence, but smiled at her expression.

'1 shall be working, if that's what you mean,' he said. 'You can call it what you like, but you'll find that Emlyn's friends aren't exactly conducive to quiet living.
You
may be glad to hide yourself away before long.'

'I'll manage,' she smiled. 'If they're all as nice as Tracey Owen, I shan't have much to worry about.'

'They're not,' he informed her, with a gleam of malice in his eyes when he said it. 'They're much noisier; Tracey Owen is the best of the bunch.'

She smiled at him, her brows arched, her eyes mischievous. 'And you sent her away.'

He said nothing, merely shook his head, his gaze inscrutable, but she thought she knew him well enough to detect regret for what he had done, though he would probably never voice it.

True to her promise the girl arrived at the house just after lunch and just as Emlyn had been settled into his chair. There was no sign of Evan; he had gone to his study as he had said he would and left Helen to cope with any visitors that arrived. She had not told Emlyn to expect anyone and when he saw Tracey he cried out delightedly, kissing her resoundingly on the mouth and pulling her down to his level with that strong grip that Helen knew so well.

'
You've changed,' he told her accusingly, his eyes noting the thinner face and the expression in her dark gaze when she looked at him.

'
I haven't, it's just that I haven't—I was ill for a time.' She knelt beside his chair in a position that was to Helen oddly touching in its humility but which Emlyn seemed to accept as the natural order of things.

‘You little idiot,' he told her with a strange gentleness that belied the words. 'What did you hope to achieve by putting yourself into hospital?'

She smiled at his chiding, taking it as part of what he was, and her eyes glowed softly. 'I didn't achieve anything,' she admitted, 'and I was a terrible nuisance to everyone.' He looked at the thin face and the wide dark eyes, more serious than Helen had ever seen him.

'
And now?'

'I'm fine now.'

'
Hmm. Did Evan give you a bad time?'

She glanced at Helen as if she sought her support.

'
No, not really,' she said. ‘I was silly to have come here at all and your father was very worried about you; Miss Gaynor explained, I was the last person he wanted here after what I did.'

'
You did nothing I blamed you for,' Emlyn retorted, 'so I don't see why anyone else should, and I'm sorry about it, Tracey, really sorry.'

‘Please don't be,' she pleaded. ‘There's no need. I've forgotten about it now.'

‘Well, I'm glad you've come now,' he told her with every appearance of sincerity, Helen was glad to note. She felt that she should leave them alone, at least for a while but she hesitated to do so in case he should object as he often did and she would hate the girl to see any display of his possessiveness for herself. She would only be hurt again by it. She got up from her chair and crossed to where Tracey was curled up by his chair and thought how like two children they looked.

‘I have things to do upstairs,' she said. 'I'm sure I can leave Tracey in charge for a while, can't I?'

Inevitably she sensed Emlyn's suspicion and waited for his protest. ‘What do you have to go for?' he asked. ‘There's nothing for you to do upstairs now that I'm down here, is there?'

'
I do have a room of my own,' she told him, 'and I do have things to do, Emlyn; you can entertain Tracey for a while, surely, without my help.' He made no reply, but his frown was in evidence when she closed the door firmly behind her and went upstairs.

She did tidy her room though it had not been of immediate importance to do so and while she moved about her mind grappled with the fact that soon she would be leaving Glyntarrach for good. She remembered all the times she had wished fervently to be away from the old house and its volatile occupants, but now that it was so soon to be fact that she felt only regret and not a little sadness at leaving it.

She looked out of the window, the length of the drive to the road beyond. It was all so familiar now, so much like home that she felt almost tearful as she turned away. There were many more such moments of regret during the next two weeks and as Emlyn grew steadily more independent she was not required so often, especially when he had visitors, as he quite often did. She could hear the sound of laughter and talk even from upstairs and she thought of Evan's warning, wondering how much of it he could hear from the study where he was' presumably working.

She saw little of him, except at mealtimes, and she realized that she missed him far more than she cared to admit. The weather had finally broken and there was little chance to walk in the garden, 'but there were one or two occasions when it was possible and Emlyn usually voiced his objection to being left behind in no uncertain manner. One evening Evan had left them temporarily before they went out and Emlyn looked at her suspiciously as he had often done, this time voicing the suspicion.

‘You and Evan seem very friendly,' he told her, watching her as she put a jacket on over her dress before going out.

She smiled. 'Is there any reason why we shouldn't be? 'she asked quietly. ‘We've lived in the same house for almost three months; it's not difficult to become friendly with someone in that time and in those circumstances.'

He greeted her reason with a black frown that she knew well meant he was going to be as unpleasant as he knew how to be. 'It's not difficult to fall in love, either,' he said, and she felt sure he did not refer to his own feelings for her.

Several times during the next few days she caught Emlyn watching her with a strangely doubtful expression as if he was trying to guess what was going on in her mind. Since she had made no reply to his remark about falling in love and he had lacked the courage to take it further, neither of them had mentioned the matter again.

Tracey came to see him far more often than did anyone else and he seemed never to tire of her company, which did much to encourage Helen's hopes that he was growing out of his attachment for herself. The girl was a gentle and willing helper when Emlyn walked about the house and, when the weather allowed, in the garden. She had infinite patience, it seemed, and never minded his sometimes unkind teasing, enduring it with a smile when Helen felt her own patience would have been at breaking point.

They were, she decided, an ideal Couple and looked so right together; Tracey's health seemed to be improving along with Emlyn's, although she was still far too thin and had very little colour. Her little elf-like face always lit into something akin to beauty when Emlyn spoke gently to her or praised something she had done. Her adoration of him was touching but, Helen hoped, not blind. He spent most of his time with her and occasionally hugged her impulsively as if he found the urge to do so irresistible, and he kissed her in the same way, a practice she objected to far less than Helen had done.

It was some time now since he had spoken of his feelings for Helen, and as it became more apparent every day that her usefulness at Glyntarrach was ended, she could not help but be relieved about it. It would have been unbearable to have been faced with the necessity of refusing him and would have made her leaving the old house even more sad.

He was practically back to normal now and as they breakfasted one morning, alone since Evan had started earlier than usual, she thought it an appropriate time to mention her departure. 'I shall finish at the end of this week,' she told him.

‘Leave?’ He looked at her in amazement, as if her going was the last thing he had considered.

‘Of course,' she said quietly. 'My job here is finished, you’re almost completely fit again and you certainly don’t need a nurse. I shall tell Evan at dinner tonight, unless I see him before.’

‘He won’t like it,’ he informed her bluntly, 'and neither do I.’

‘Don’t be silly, Emlyn, why should either of you not like it? Your father knows I shall be going soon. I suppose he’s left it to me or Doctor Neath to decide when; he certainly won’t raise any objections.’ She wondered in her heart how true that was and whether he would care about her going as much as she did herself. It would not be easy to tell him because, if she admitted the truth, she was half afraid he would just accept the fact of her going and not raise any objections at all, perhaps not even express his regret. That would be the hardest thing of all. She was only grateful that Emlyn had not found it necessary to fulfil his promise to ask her to marry him; it had been well worth braving Evan’s wrath to suggest asking Tracey to come, and obviously Emlyn agreed.

‘He won’t like you going,’ Emlyn insisted, 'and he may turn stubborn—you know what that means! ’

‘Of course he won’t,’ she said. ‘I’m not needed any longer and Evan is sensible enough to know that; I was never intended to be a permanent fixture, you know.’

'
But we’ve got used to you being here,’ he told her.

'
I can’t picture Glyntarrach without you now and I’m sure Evan won’t either; you’re—you’re almost like family.’

Helen smiled. 'Or part of the furniture,’ she teased.

'
It’s all too easy to get used to people, isn’t it?’ Perhaps something in her voice betrayed her feelings or perhaps he was at last prompted by conscience, but he seemed to become more serious suddenly.

' Helen.' He hesitated, looking down at his hands on the table, twining his fingers together and frowning as if it required all his concentration. 'I said some pretty rash things to you, didn't I?'

'
You did,' she agreed, trying to treat it with as much lightness as she could manage, for she had no wish to embarrass him more than he obviously was already. 'And I told you they were rash at the time, if you remember; at least I told you that you would see things differently once you were up and about again.'

'
You were very patient with me and I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.' It was a new role for him to be so contrite and she thought how much like Evan he looked with his frown and his dislike of apologizing. He might have the flamboyance of the Howells for most of the time, but he had enough of that Davies arrogance to make apologies distasteful.

She leaned across the table to cover the restless hands with her own small one. 'It was very flattering,' she said softly. 'I know patients do fall in love with their nurses, but it's never happened to me before and I can't honestly say that I altogether disliked the experience.'

He raised his eyes then and looked at her, taking her hand in both his and raising it to his lips. 'I can't think why it hasn't happened to you before,' he told her.

'
You're very lovely and I'm still half in love with you.'

'Only half?' she teased. 'Have you three halves to your heart, then, that you can find an extra one for me?' She smiled at him understandingly and he nodded slowly.

'
You're very wise too,' he told her. 'Wise and lovely. No wonder I loved you.'

'You thought you did,' she corrected him. 'I knew differently.'

'So you worked your magic on Evan too and made everything right for me. Oh, I know Evan would never have done that on his own initiative, but he listens to you.'

'Not very often,' she said. 'But he did ask me to go down and issue the invitation after he'd listened to
me,
and it was worth it this time, wasn't it?'

'
It was,' he agreed with a smile, and kissed her fingertips again in gratitude. 'Thank you, dear Helen.'

She looked at him thoughtfully; in this new mood of gentle understanding she liked him more than she had ever done and she attributed much of the change in him to the influence of Tracey.

'Be gentle with her, Emlyn,' she said softly. 'She's very young and very easily hurt, and she loves you very much.'

‘I know.' He did not question who it was they were discussing, but still held her fingers as if he would like to have said more but could not make up his mind as to the wisdom of it. He sighed, apparently deciding against it, looking down at her fingers curled over his hand. 'If I hadn't been so wrapped up in self-pity I'd have cared more what happened to her before. I should have demanded that Evan let me see her, then I could have reassured her and she would never have been so worried and ill.'

‘You were not self-pitying,' she denied. ‘You were anything but that; a little selfish perhaps,' she smiled to take the sting from the words, 'but you very seldom showed self-pity.'

'
A model patient?' he asked, and she laughed.

‘Scarcely that either, but at least you were always cheerful, and that helps everybody concerned.' She looked at him directly. 'Have you told Tracey how you feel about her?'

‘She knows,' he said, 'without being told. Women do, don't they?'

‘Sometimes,' she admitted. 'But sometimes they can be horribly in doubt; and it's always reassuring to be told, however sure you are.'

He grinned the old irrepressible grin. 'I'll tell her,' he promised, ‘don't you worry, and you've very cunningly changed the subject, haven't you? We were talking about you leaving or not.'