G." She did
not want to read any more of it then. She sat down slowly, put the
precious paper back into its envelope, looked round upon them all, and
knew that she was crimson to the roots of her hair, blushing like a guilty
thing.
"Lucy, my dear," said Lady Fawn--and Lucy at once turned her face full
upon her old friend--"you have got a letter that agitates you."
"Yes, I have," she said.
"Go into the book-room. You can come back to breakfast when you have read
it, you know." Thereupon Lucy rose from her seat, and retired with her
treasure into the book-room. But even when she was there she could not at
once read her letter. When the door was closed and she knew that she was
alone she looked at it, and then clasped it tight between her hands. She
was almost afraid to read it least the letter itself should contradict the
promise which the last words of it had seemed to convey to her. She went
up to the window and stood there gazing out upon the gravel road, with her
hand containing the letter pressed upon her heart. Lady Fawn had told her
that she was preparing for herself inexpressible misery; and now there had
come to her joy so absolutely inexpressible! "A man to tell you that he
loves you, and yet not ask you to be his wife!" She repeated to herself
Lady Fawn's words, and then those other words, "Yours ever and always, if
you will have me!" Have him, indeed! She threw from her, at once, as vain
and wicked and false, all idea of coying her love.
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