'You will write to Captain Hammersley, Finella,' said Dulcie, suddenly breaking the silence; 'write to him and supplement all I have written to Florian. You see he is too good, too brave, not to be completely forgiving.'
'He has nothing to forgive,' said Finella, with just a little soupçon of pride.
'Well, of course not; and his heart has come back to you again, if it ever left you, when he knows that you love him only, and loved him always.'
'He sends you a kiss, Dulcie!' said Finella, pressing her lips to the girl's soft cheek.
'Be brave, Vivian,' urged Finella, when she wrote her letter; 'I mean to be so, so far as I am concerned, and do not be discouraged by any opposition on the part of grandmamma. I am rich enough to please myself. Let us have perfect confidence in each other, and we shall realize our dearest hopes, if God spares you to me. Oh, you dear, old, passionate silly!—to run away in a furious pet, as you did from Craigengowan, without seeking a word of explanation. How much all this has cost me, Heaven alone knows; but it is all over now.'
Her long and loving letter was despatched—posted by her own hand.
'But his wound—his wound—when shall I hear more of that?' was her ever-recurring thought.
Now Shafto had seen the Cape letter ere Dulcie had time to conceal it in her bosom, and watching both girls, he had seen them intent on their missives under the shade of Queen Mary's Thorn. So, knowing that Dulcie's letter could only be from Florian, intent on making mischief, he went to Lady Fettercairn, whom he found in her luxurious boudoir, and asked her if she 'approved of her companion corresponding with private soldiers.'
'Certainly not,' replied the dame sharply; 'was her letter this morning from such?'
'I am certain of it.'