What a dear she is! What a nice pet to leave us alone!
Robert and I passed another hour of bliss, and I think we must have got to the sixth heaven by now. Robert says the seventh is for the end, when we are married—well, that will be soon. Oh! I am too happy to write coherently.
I did not wake till late this morning, and Véronique came and said my sitting-room was again full of flowers. The darling Robert is!
I wrote to Christopher and Lady Ver, in bed as I sipped my chocolate. I just told Lady Ver the truth, that Robert and I had met by chance, and discovered we loved one another, so I knew she would understand—and I promised I would not break his heart. Then I thanked her for all her kindness to me, but I felt sad when I read it over—poor, dear Lady Ver—how I hope it won’t really hurt her, and that she will forgive me.
To Christopher I said I had found my “variation” worth while, and I hoped he would come to my wedding some day soon.
Then I sent Véronique to post them both.
To-day I am moving to Carlton House Terrace. What a delight that will be—and in a fortnight, or at best three weeks, Robert says we shall quietly go and get married, and Colonel Tom Carden can give me away after all.
Oh the joy of the dear, beautiful world, and this sweet, dirty, enshrouding fog-bound London! I love it all—even the smuts!