"You won't forget I am to be one of your friends," Lady Merrenden said, as
I bid her good-bye.
"Indeed I won't," I replied, and she drove off, smiling at me.
I do wonder what she will think of my marriage with Christopher.
Now it is night. I have had a miserable, lonely dinner in my
sitting-room. Veronique has been most gracious and coddling--she feels Mr.
Carruthers in the air, I suppose--and so I must go to bed.
Oh, why am I not happy, and why don't I think this is a delightful and
unusual situation, as I once would have done? I only feel depressed and
miserable, and as if I wished Christopher at the bottom of the sea. I have
told myself how good-looking he is, and how he attracted me at Branches,
but that was before--Yes, I may as well write what I was going to--before
Lord Robert arrived. Well, he and Lady Ver are talking together on a nice
sofa by now, I suppose, in a big, well-lit drawing-room, and--Oh, I
_wish_, I _wish_ I had never made any bargain with her--perhaps, now, in
that case--Ah, well----
_Sunday afternoon._
No, I can't bear it. All the morning I have been in a fever, first hot and
then cold. What will it be like? Oh, I shall faint when he kisses me. And
I know he will be dreadful like that; I have seen it in his eye.
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