She answered it that same night with the
sweetest, prettiest little letter, very short, full of love and full of
confidence. Lady Fawn, she said, was the dearest of women; but what was
Lady Fawn to her, or all the Fawns, compared with her lover? If he could
come to Richmond without disturbance to himself, let him come; but if he
felt that, in the present unhappy condition of affairs between him and
Lord Fawn, it was better that he should stay away, she had not a word to
say in the way of urging him. To see him would be a great delight. But had
she not the greater delight of knowing that he loved her? That was quite
enough to make her happy. Then there was a little prayer that God might
bless him, and an assurance that she was in all things his own, own Lucy.
When she was writing her letter she was in all respects a happy girl.
But on the very next day there came a cloud upon her happiness, not in the
least, however, affecting her full confidence in her lover. It was a
Saturday, and Lord Fawn came down to Richmond. Lord Fawn had seen Mr.
Greystock in London on that day, and the interview had been by no means
pleasant to him.
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