Lettice gave the sheets a flick with her white fingers.
“You can read it if you like. There is nothing private. I must say he does not write exciting letters. He has been in Canterbury, and this one is a sort of guide-book about the crypt. As if I wanted to hear about crypts! I must say I did not think when I was engaged that I should have letters all about tombs and stupid old monuments! Arthur is so serious. I suppose he thinks he will ‘improve my mind,’ but if I am to be improved I would rather read a book at once and not be lectured in my love letters.”
She had never spoken so openly before, and Norah dared not let the opportunity pass.
“Oh, Lettice, dear! aren’t you happy? aren’t you satisfied?” she cried earnestly. “I have been afraid sometimes that you were not so fond of Arthur as you should be. Do, do speak out, dear, if it is so, and put an end to things while there is time!”
“An end! What do you mean? I am to be married in less than a month—how could I put an end to it? Don’t be foolish, Norah. Besides, I do care for Arthur. I wish sometimes that he were a little younger and less proper, but that is only because he is too clever and learned for a stupid little thing like me. Don’t talk like that again; it makes me miserable. Wouldn’t you like to have a house of your own and be able to do whatever you liked? My little boudoir is so sweet, all blue and white, and we will have such cosy times in it, you and I, and Edna must come up and stay with me too. Oh, it will be lovely! I am sure it will. I shall be quite happy. I am glad father insisted upon having the wedding up here; it will be so much quieter than in a fashionable London church with all the rabble at the doors. Dreadful to be stared at by hundreds of people who don’t know or care anything about you, and only look at you as part of a show. Here all the people are interested and care a little bit for ‘Miss Lettice.’ If only Rex were to be here! It seems hard that he should leave home just a fortnight before my wedding.”
Norah sighed and relapsed into silence, for it was all settled about Rex’s departure by this time. The Squire had given way, Mrs Freer and Edna had wept themselves dry, and were now busily occupied in preparing what Rex insisted upon describing as his “trousseau.”
“I have one hundred and fifty ‘pieces’ in my trousseau; how many have you in yours?” he asked Lettice one day; and the girls were much impressed at the extensiveness of his preparations, until it was discovered that he counted each sock separately, and took a suit of clothes as representing three of the aforesaid “pieces.” Having once given way, the Squire behaved in the most generous manner, and at his suggestion, Rex was to travel overland to Brindisi, spending a month in various places of interest on the Continent. In order to do this and catch the appointed boat, it was necessary to leave Westmoreland at the end of August. Ten days more, and then good-bye to Rex, good-bye to the happy old day which could never come back again! Four days more, three days, two days, one day—the last afternoon arrived, and with a sinking heart Norah went to meet Rex in the drawing-room for the last time for long years to come.