At twenty-five, Gail Trevor suddenly found herself alone in the world, with very little money and no definite plans.

But she was young and undismayed. There was a certain freedom about having nothing. She had no ties now. All was before her.

No Spring, she thought, had ever held such promise, promise of a new life, of gaiety, happiness and perhaps even love.

On the back of the dust wrapper:

The letter said

 My Dear Gail,

 I was very shocked to hear the news of your father's sudden death.

 As you know, your father and I were not good friends, but I have
 always regretted that our quarrel cut me off from you. Your mother
 was my dearest friend and you are my godchild.

 I do not know what your plans are, but I have a proposition to
 make. Will you come and spend the summer with us at Beverton?
 It would give me great pleasure to get to know you again, and
 would give you breathing spacein which to decide about the
 future. I hope that you will agree to my proposition. I shall be
 very disappointed if you don't.

  Yours affectionately,

   JOSEPHINE SHERWOOD

Beverton, with its ancient buildings, its air of bustling activity, the river, the distant line of the moor and the feeling that the sea was not far away, rambling Holly Lodge, Aunt Jo and her two sons, George and Max, who were only a few years older than Gail herself. Yes, she thought, a summer at Beverton would surely lift the chill from her heart.

At twenty-five, Gail Trevor suddenly found herself alone in the world, with very little money and no definite plans. But she was young and undismayed. There was a certain freedom about having nothing. She had no ties now. All was before her.

And then came the letter from her late father's* dearest friend, Josephine Sherwood. A letter which brings her to the town of Beverton.

Beverton, with its ancient buildings, its air of bustling activity, the river, the distant line of the moor and the feeling that the sea was not far away, rambling Holly Lodge, Aunt Jo and her two sons, George and Max, who were only a few years older than herself.

No summer, she thought, had ever held such promise, promise of a new life, of gaiety, happiness and perhaps even love.

Had love died with the past?

Gail's own family life had been strained and unhappy - the complete opposite of her life with the warm and loving Sherwood family. She loved them all - but she gave Max Sherwood her heart.