She murmured: "Well, haven't I wanted this! Isn't it what I've always wanted! Say it again, dear. With your face on mine and with your arms around me say it."
"I love you, Essie."
Only words—no harm in that. Only words! At Whitecliffe he'd tell her, and she, as he'd sworn, should decide. Only words—only words, but he'd not lose her now!
As they walked home, he posted his letter.
CHAPTER X
THE DREAM
I
"Registered letter for you," cried Essie. "My goodness if there isn't!"
This was in the little sitting-room of the Whitecliffe Sands lodgings—the fifth morning there; Mr. Bickers expected on the morrow; Mr. Wriford, as had been arranged when he was invited for the blow by the sea that would do him a world of good, supposed to be leaving on the same day; and Essie, as they walked the parade together before breakfast, in highest state of excitement and mystification at Arthur's insistence that their secret should be kept till then and then should be revealed—if Essie wished it.
"Well, but aren't you a tease, though!" said Essie delightedly, as this was repeated while they came in to where the registered letter awaited them on the breakfast-table. "Aren't you a fair tease! 'If I want to!' Why, aren't I simply dying to just! I'm simply bursting to tell Mother every single minute. Isn't a secret a caution though—just like when you've got a hole in your dress and think everybody's looking at it. Oh, isn't it funny how you do when you have, though? Let's have a laugh!"