She had not got from life all she should have got; and it was only natural that people should make it up to her a little.
For Cynthia, though she had wished to marry, was unmarried, and a secret and melancholy conviction now sometimes possessed her that she would remain Cynthia Welwyn to the end.

She knew very well that in the opinion of her friends she had fallen between two stools.

Her neighbour, Sir Richard Watson, had proposed to her twice,--on the last occasion some two years before the war.

She had not been able to make up her mind to accept him, because on the whole she was more in love with her cousin, Philip Buntingford, and still hoped that his old friendship for her might turn to something deeper.

But the war had intervened, and during its four years she and Buntingford had very much lost sight of each other.