On two evenings Lady Ver has been out, with numbers of regrets at leaving
me behind, and I have gathered that she has seen Lord Robert, but he has
not been here, I am glad to say.
I am real friends with the angels, who are delightful people, and very
well brought up. Lady Ver evidently knows much better about it than Mary
Mackintosh, although she does not talk in that way.
I can't think what I am going to do next. I suppose soon this kind of
drifting will seem quite natural, but at present the position galls me for
some reason. I _hate_ to think people are being kind out of charity. How
very foolish of me, though!
Lady Merrenden is coming to lunch to-morrow. I am interested to see her,
because Lord Robert said she was such a dear. I wonder what has become of
him. He has not been here--I wonder--No, I am _too_ silly.
Lady Ver does not get up to breakfast, and I go into her room and have
mine on another little tray, and we talk, and she reads me bits out of her
letters.
She seems to have a number of people in love with her--that must be nice.
"It keeps Charlie always devoted," she said, "because he realizes he owns
what the other men want."
She says, too, that all male creatures are fighters by nature; they don't
value things they obtain easily, and which are no trouble to keep.
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