And her own position, too, unless they were to be married soon, would be very trying. John had said that in a fortnight at latest he would join her, but now he did not seem at all certain of this. Altogether the letter disturbed her exceedingly, and she was sitting still and silent in her own room, when kind Miss Eliza rapped at the door and put in her head.
“My dear,” she said, “our nephew Ralph wishes to know if you would like to go to one of the picture galleries this morning?”
“I think not, Miss Eliza,” answered May in a constrained voice.
“Are you feeling tired?” now asked good Miss Eliza; “Ah, I was afraid you were doing too much.”
“I think I do feel a little tired, but it is nothing; only I should rather not go out this morning,” said May, gently. “But please thank Mr. Webster for his kindness in offering to take me.”
“I am sure it gives him pleasure; but I’ll go now and tell him you do not wish to go.”
After this Miss Eliza went away, and presently May heard the front door of the house shut sharply. It was Ralph Webster going out, with also a feeling of disappointment in his heart of which he was half-ashamed.
“What can have tired her, I wonder?” he was reflecting. “She seemed as bright as possible last night.”
May in the meanwhile was thinking of what she should do about answering John Temple’s letter. She had seen that gentle look of surprise in Miss Margaret’s mild eyes when she had placed John’s letter in her hand, and no doubt she would be yet more surprised when she asked her to inclose her own to him. Yet John had requested her to do this, and she must, of course, do as he wished.
So after awhile she sat down to write to him. She had never written to him before, and this first love letter was therefore a very serious affair. She began it three times.