I suddenly felt utterly alone--all the exaltation gone. For the moment I
hated the two down-stairs. I felt the situation equivocal and untenable,
and it had amused me so much an hour ago.
It is stupid and silly, and makes one's nose red, but I felt like crying a
little before I got into bed.
BRANCHES,
Saturday afternoon, _November 5th._
This morning I woke with a headache, to see the rain beating against my
windows, and mist and fog--a fitting day for the 5th of November. I would
not go down to breakfast. Veronique brought me mine to my sitting-room
fire, and, with Spartan determination, I packed steadily all the morning.
About twelve a note came up from Lord Robert. I put it in.
DEAR MISS TRAVERS,--
Why are you hiding? Was I a bore last night? Do forgive me
and come down. Has Christopher locked you in your room?
I will murder the brute if he has!
Yours very sincerely,
ROBERT VAVASOUR.
"Can't; I am packing," I scribbled in pencil on the envelope, and gave
it back to Charles, who was waiting in the hall for the answer. Two
minutes after, Lord Robert walked into the room, the door of which the
footman had left open.
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