“I haven’t confessed any motive to be ashamed of, Milly.”
“You say you have decided to marry now because you are afraid of never having another chance.”
“No; that’s turning it very unkindly. I only said that after I had told you that I did love him. And I do love him. He has made me love him.”
“Then I have no right to say any more. I can only wish you happiness.”
Mildred heaved a sigh, and pretended to give her attention to Maunder.
After waiting irresolutely for some minutes, Monica looked for notepaper, and took it, together with her inkstand, into the bedroom. She was absent half an hour. On her return there was a stamped letter in her hand.
“It is going, Milly.”
“Very well, dear. I have nothing more to say.”
“You give me up for lost. We shall see.”
It was spoken light-heartedly. Again she left the room, put on her out-of-door things, and went to post the letter. By this time she began to feel the results of exertion and excitement; headache and tremulous failing of her strength obliged her to go to bed almost as soon as she returned. Mildred waited upon her with undiminished kindness.